Aug 2019
The words weren’t daggers.
Weren’t meant to ****.
They were spindly,
like needles.
But barbed.
So they latch.
I’m not grievously wounded.
Yet I’m still bleeding out...
.
Weren’t meant to ****.
They were spindly,
like needles.
But barbed.
So they latch.
I’m not grievously wounded.
Yet I’m still bleeding out...
.
