vi0Let is bLUe

Starve myself with promises and hope she narrates my story but somehow the words erode. Chains and bricks reasons, as does the changing of the seasons. I can't describe the way I feel with words anymore! What has become of yesterday? The sky always seems to be painted charcoal grey these days. How do I smile? All in left with now is memories remembering now that day, and everything she said.