We Were Wrong Arlo Merchant
You are too much like me. While you don’t have my eyes, smile, hair, you have my hope, naivety, and torn heart.
You are so sweet but not meant for me.
I ask the earth, why now? but she stares in return. I ask the moon, why here? but she is gone, resting her days away I ask the sun, how come? But he is hiding behind clouds. If we met at a later point, a better place, a better state, maybe we would be.
Clouded Joy | Paula Araujo Parra | Photography
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