Apr 2017
I didn't want to be the one who left because she couldn't handle the change -- couldn't adapt.
But the truth is, I can't.
I hate writing this even now, knowing how it'll look when it comes out.
My aesthetics are dead.
But the truth is, I can't.
I hate writing this even now, knowing how it'll look when it comes out.
My aesthetics are dead.
I really don't want this to be the last, because where else can I find a black and white poetry site?
