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jerome-austin-johnsonPoems
Her wound bleeds fresh when she breathes too deep. Her heart is hers to keep or let seep Beneath the earth... Beneath the grave... beneath the trees... there it lays! Cool to the touch, and clutch by a corpse. Her heart: eternally frozen in quartz.
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Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 2:00 PM UTC
Wounded
Her wound bleeds fresh when she breathes too deep. Her heart is hers to keep or let seep Beneath the earth... Beneath the grave... beneath the trees... there it lays! Cool to the touch, and clutch by a corpse. Her heart: eternally frozen in quartz.
Move on, my dear... he's dead.
#love#death#movingon#stolen
jerome-austin-johnson
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jerome-austin-johnson
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 2:00 PM UTC
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