when lips part and grow into a smile when all care is thrown to the winds when the heart beckons and you succumb thats when thought comes after instinct
Restless, i prowl the corridors craving for the first spray of rain. An insomniac, a recluse in a crowd, the garb of happiness i feign. In the wave of humanity i long for a touch ,anticipating, all in vain. Withering from the insides, in melancholy i still remain.
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