It's in the silence of a pitch black room, where the glow of a streetlight outside filters through the slit where curtains meet that I find myself thinking about you. And I can't help but wonder, with my hands trembling at the thought of you, if you feel sorrow when you think of what you … Continue reading Tremble


The words I've left unsaid because I was too afraid of hurting another's feelings or rocking the boat I was in, slip past my lips, spill into the pitch black of night, and haunt me in my sleep. Oh, how I regret being kind when I should've been honest.