Jun 2015
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
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
