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Description
"I miss my old friends," she says.
"Go talk to them," they say.
"I'm scared." I respond, and runaway from my old home, in the clouds somewhere with keys made from broken stone.
"I have a lot of time on my hands, I really really do. And if you want to know my story I could share it with you."
"Psst." They whisper to their friends, eyes cold to me but light to themselves. "Psst."
"Psst." I whisper to no one around me, and I have nothing to say.
I like my friends, I really do.
Some are more sensitive than I actually knew.
So I made mistakes with them and they became upset.
And now everyday I live with regrets.

Description
"I miss my old friends," she says.
"Go talk to them," they say.
"I'm scared." I respond, and runaway from my old home, in the clouds somewhere with keys made from broken stone.
"I have a lot of time on my hands, I really really do. And if you want to know my story I could share it with you."
"Psst." They whisper to their friends, eyes cold to me but light to themselves. "Psst."
"Psst." I whisper to no one around me, and I have nothing to say.
I like my friends, I really do.
Some are more sensitive than I actually knew.
So I made mistakes with them and they became upset.
And now everyday I live with regrets.