I’m very observant and often quiet.
Some mistake that for weakness.
But I’m kinda like a bone collector,
gathering the bones you drop over time.
Then one day I’ll piece them all together,
finally see you’re not for me and leave.
What happens when words whisper? They form poetry. They tell stories. They breathe life. Right here…
I’m very observant and often quiet.
Some mistake that for weakness.
But I’m kinda like a bone collector,
gathering the bones you drop over time.
Then one day I’ll piece them all together,
finally see you’re not for me and leave.