there is a feather.
this feather is not hope.
it is not love.
not defeat.
it is just a feather.
it fell off your back.
and i love it.
because it was yours.
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- a. marie
- chasing an inevitable end with no distinct date. what do we really know.
1 comment:
hm, just saw this today.
I dreamed of you last night.
I am leaving los angeles today.
I'm going back east and making a new me.
I'm not mad at you anymore, I understand a lot of things now.
I just miss you a bit.
see you in portland when we are both new again.
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