Waiting

Every year around this time my mind wanders to you.
and every year I hate myself for going back there
even if it is in memories.
I hate feeling like that all over again.
I want to go on, move on, get over but every year I am thrown back
back into that room where you wait for me. A spider toying with it's prey.
You are always there in the back ( Read more... )

The danger is in the heartache ( Read more... )