Touch.
January 26, 2013
Sometimes, all I need, is for you to hold my hand.
Sometimes, all I need, is for you to hold my hand.
We had perfection, But we let it go, Now all that’s left for us Is a slow descent into hell. By R.L.Sharpe.
I fell head first crazy fast into the hole inside your heart. (A micro poem by Rochelle Sharpe.)