You fell apart, split in two.
So I stitched you back together, though I never learned how to sew.
Needle and thread.
You’re always in your head.
If you were to bleed out, I’d hang you out to dry.
Forever, until the day I die, and even after, I hope that it rains on my grave so flowers can bloom and reach out for you.
Nov 22, 2025
Nov 22, 2025 at 6:27 AM UTC
You fell apart, split in two.
So I stitched you back together, though I never learned how to sew.
Needle and thread.
You’re always in your head.
If you were to bleed out, I’d hang you out to dry.
Forever, until the day I die, and even after, I hope that it rains on my grave so flowers can bloom and reach out for you.