May 2018
Writing poems for someone was n e v e r my thing
Until you ripped my heart out and left it bleeding
Words c a n n o t suffice how much I am hurting
Now that you are gone and left me with nothing
{ l.m.l.b }
Until you ripped my heart out and left it bleeding
Words c a n n o t suffice how much I am hurting
Now that you are gone and left me with nothing
{ l.m.l.b }
Isn’t it ironic that when you are in pain or pure brokenness, your mouth has nothing left to say, but your heart can’t help but to burst all the million thoughts running through your head, by means of crying?
05.06.18
05.06.18
