Sir, don’t pick me, please.
My presentation is ass.
Damn it...Our eyes met.
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Confessions of an Empath
The birds are chirping, and the sun is shining in a cloudless July sky. The vibrancy promises a beautiful day, but the cooing of the Mourning Dove perched on the powerlines seems to be more fitting than the lively songs of the robin flitting through the trees. The melancholic calls of the dove cloak the world in a sadness that hangs like tattered drapes.
By Alyssa Nicolea day ago in Confessions
Comments (2)
Been there. Lol. Great job.
So much of my life in these poems...