I am the only one without a fire.
A fire burning inside, a fire in my heart
My fire is gone, not for good. I hope.
You took it away, when you left.
It slowly went weaker, and weaker.
Until it died. And I stood back cold.
Much colder then I had ever been.
Why did you leave me?
Couldn’t you at least have left me behind a small flame?
Or just something to keep me warm?
Something that just needed a little wind, or like a little push for it to blow up again.
I can’t live without you.
You ment the world to me.
My flame is gone.
You were my flame.
Hvis du fremdeles leser bloggen min så vet du hva jeg snakker om. Jeg syns ikke dette er noe gøy lenger, å jeg vil bare at alt var sånn det var før… Men det er helt opp til deg.
-Anne
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