TheStormUnleashed

We were a list of promises broken, exhausted and frightened to be held in the hands of dreamers and liars            and both                        because fingers                        have the tendency                        to let slip the things                        they love                        the most. That’s why we’re fleeting. Why poets call us clouds with no real direction. But really, we’re both running away and looking for a wind that’ll make us feel less like nomads. So when people ask you why you’re alone in a drowning of your thoughts, tell them this is the price of having a pu