Jul 2016
I miss you a little more each day
and a lot more every night
I think it has seeped into blood like a habit—
this love that only meant doom,
this dark gutter of glitter—and habits die hard.
and a lot more every night
I think it has seeped into blood like a habit—
this love that only meant doom,
this dark gutter of glitter—and habits die hard.
