This might be a lonesome story, like the early winter wind A story of a person meeting a person and then turning back It’s sometimes an indifferent story, like a healing scar A story of a person emptying out another person and filling themselves up again
I was just quietly looking at you and I just figured it out What shape love is, what color it is, where it is When I’m just breathing, even when I’m sighing I’m happy enough, I’m hurting enough I am in love
I wait every day, end up crying and without a word, hurt alone Like a fool, I keep telling myself, that kind of happiness doesn’t come easily I didn’t want to hurt again and I couldn’t bear to show you my heart because I’m scared No matter how much I pretend to be alright and […]