I’m looking at you through the glass, don’t know how much time has passed. Oh God, it feels like forever but no one ever tells you that forever feels like home, sitting all alone inside your head.
How do you feel? That is the question. But I forget, you don’t expect an easy answer. When something like a soul becomes initialized and folded up like paper dolls and little notes, you can’t expect a bit of hope. So, while you’re outside looking in, describing what you see,
Remember what you’re staring at is me.
(Source: sublimeculture)
