Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2013
fold your soul into tiny little pieces and slip yourself into my mailbox; i'll be surprised because the mail never comes on Sundays, but like every other Sunday, i get anxious and go check the box for anything, on the walk there i realize it's still Sunday for another 22 hours and the mail won't come till tomorrow. I'll know we were meant to be if you've come early and waited for a while.
hello
Written by
hello
441
   hkr
Please log in to view and add comments on poems