She stole my poem,
and so did my heart.
She stole my love
and made days full of open wounds.
She came back,
complaining that she couldn't spell
the words I had written to her in my poem, "how this love is so silent?"
Dec 26, 2023
Dec 26, 2023 at 4:47 AM UTC
She stole my poem,
and so did my heart.
She stole my love
and made days full of open wounds.
She came back,
complaining that she couldn't spell
the words I had written to her in my poem, "how this love is so silent?"
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