When blank pages whisper your name and somehow every blot of ink looks like you; write me off. When words fail me first and actions take over, I’m yours.
A writer’s last words are all she has, so when that boy is the only thing my throbbing heart asks for, sink my books in tumbling oceans. He is the muse that erased every other.
May 4, 2019
May 4, 2019 at 11:11 PM UTC
When blank pages whisper your name and somehow every blot of ink looks like you; write me off. When words fail me first and actions take over, I’m yours.
A writer’s last words are all she has, so when that boy is the only thing my throbbing heart asks for, sink my books in tumbling oceans. He is the muse that erased every other.
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