She’s never seemed fragile, or weak. No. Never. Not to me. Her strength, is viking. Her bravery. Her wild. And at night, Helena, she sleeps. With the wolves lovingly at her feet.
AIMEE C. HOVEYShe’s never seemed fragile, or weak. No. Never. Not to me. Her strength, is viking. Her bravery. Her wild. And at night, Helena, she sleeps. With the wolves lovingly at her feet.
AIMEE C. HOVEYThere’s a sincerely bittersweet truth in the way neither of us deserve me loving you.
AIMEE C. HOVEYNothing but hard work makes dreams come true and I will slave’til the end for a chance to watch the sunrise and fall beside you.
AIMEE C. HOVEYThe more you push to get close to me, the more I’ll withdraw. You’ll never catch me. Not if I don’t want to be caught.
AIMEE C. HOVEYI lost so much of myself, when I lost them both. I learnt how to be strong on my own and for everyone else.
AIMEE C. HOVEYA long time ago I came to realize that no matter where I am no distance I could go can ever make my heart forget you’ve made a home inside my soul.
AIMEE C. HOVEYI miss you now since you were here than you never where. I’d forgotten what its like to watch the world with you and how much you feel like home.
AIMEE C. HOVEYTime might only tell if this will be comfort or a curse.
AIMEE C. HOVEYI’m holding on so tightly to the promise that if nothing lasts forever, someday, this sadness will end too.
AIMEE C. HOVEYAnd didn’t I used to say “live fast, die young” right up until it was your last day too soon, with me under the sun.
AIMEE C. HOVEYLately, none of what seems to matter when I’m holding you and maybe, baby, we’re getting better.
AIMEE C. HOVEYPut the memories away keep them safe especially the good (they cause the most pain)
AIMEE C. HOVEYI guess that’s the thing with forever you only get it once. So when you find yours in someone there’s not a thing you can do to forget and nobody else could ever come close.
AIMEE C. HOVEYAnd I miss where the sun sets. Over the english channel, on the south coast of sussex.
AIMEE C. HOVEYWhat an absolute waste land loving you has become. Such a shame, to let it be any less.
AIMEE C. HOVEYWords lit low on kerosene pages, familiar comforts like asphyxiation.
AIMEE C. HOVEY