the ugly writers


I don’t think I can ever stop myself anyway So, I wave my hand as we drift away Your back turned toward me as I watch you fade Oblivious. Yet that's for the better.


But even if her gaze was just as fuzzy as his She can still see How wonderful he is His face His grace His smile His dimples His mannerisms


He wasn't that far from her, literally. But there was a wide divide between them. Cannot be crossed. Will never be crossed.