I lay my heart down.
Thought I had a chance this time.
Flushed hope fades to blue.
About the Creator
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Our Song
Evening has given way to night. Gently, I settle next to you on the comfortable, old love seat and reach for your hand. You snatch it away, again. It cuts me to the quick, but I hide the pain, understanding that the reaction is but part of your demented state. Since the accident, your presence here in our cozy home has been clouded by a haze I can't see. Nevertheless, I feel the frigidity of your expressions and it serves as an excruciating reminder of the immeasurable distance between us.
By Dana Crandell3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
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Aw,,, this is really sad. I love that you included a pic of it written. Well done, Hannah! (Also...this doesn't count as my three reads of pieces by you...this was extra cos I was just needing a writer I knew I'd be in safe hands reading something by before I tackle work and stuff)