Summer hands.

“And each time we held hands, it felt like containing a garden filled with wild summer flowers. And each time we let go, did you feel the pain of clutching onto thorns. Because all you left  me  with is this fragrance, colour and assorted petals of a million summer memories”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s