Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2021
The room is warm and dark and the stupid ******* crane lights don’t bother me anymore even though I still see them through the blinds. Cause when I feel a warm hand in mine and hear the music and close my eyes, it feels like home. And this time it belongs all to me.
Written by
K
468
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems