in the timbre of my voice after six ounces of bacardi and red bull,
in the gnawing of my stomach's hunger when my mind is empty,
in the curve of my abdomen as your hand rests upon it,
in the salt of my tears on nights when your rejection is too much, too much.
Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 10:57 PM UTC
in the timbre of my voice after six ounces of bacardi and red bull,
in the gnawing of my stomach's hunger when my mind is empty,
in the curve of my abdomen as your hand rests upon it,
in the salt of my tears on nights when your rejection is too much, too much.
