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Jun 2019
Do I spin on this wheel of fortune forever? Offering slices of my heart like a bake sale. Or should I look at you with glass eyes? The world is full of dormant men who love the emptiness of women.  A vacant place behind her eyes that says I’m no longer here. I had to pack and retreat long ago because I’m too scared. I’m scared of you. I’m scared your hands are too rough to reach into my chest. Your hands are fickle. No fingerprints. I’d say I miss you but a man without fingerprints can’t leave a mark.
Written by
Florence
197
     ---, Bogdan Dragos and Mark S
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