she lingers and longing for something or someone to wake her from her long sleep full of nightmares.
But no one could wake her, not even love. Some fairytale bullshit she knows for sure. Her eyes cries, she was full of tears. She couldn’t cry for all her life.
But now she cries, and when she does, no one shares her sadness because she’s buried. Only grass and occasional flowers befriended her.