Red lights remind me of one thing. Or maybe just those. Those four red lights. Everything that came with them. The waiting. Regretting and thinking. Empty. Ridiculous scowls. Clenched fists too. I hate the waiting. It only makes me remember. What a waste of red.
I really like this. It's so full of hurt. Well...I don't like the hurt, just the writing which is strong portraying the hurt. Oh Courtney :(
ReplyDeleteI also like the last line, "What a waste of red."