She was the pen. Forever scaring me.
As I was the paper. Who loved the pain.
I knew with every touch. I would never be the same.
I desired nothing more. Than her poetry.
-Nicholas A. McNutt
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 12:30 AM UTC
She was the pen. Forever scaring me.
As I was the paper. Who loved the pain.
I knew with every touch. I would never be the same.
I desired nothing more. Than her poetry.
-Nicholas A. McNutt
