They say that poems
are made to touch
the places your
hands can't reach
and well i guess that
makes your smile a
poem

Hello? I am running out of

your voice: my lullaby on repeat

"Before you left you slammed me up against a wall, ripped open my chest and laid a broken record on my heart. Now my insides only play the same **** tune, screaming at me "he never loved you."
-Kahla Mercadante