Aug 10
Here I go,
once again—
cigarette smoke,
empty page.
Romanticizing pain,
self-destructing on my own.
“Your words are so pretty.”
“Thanks—they’re a cry for help,
you know?”
once again—
cigarette smoke,
empty page.
Romanticizing pain,
self-destructing on my own.
“Your words are so pretty.”
“Thanks—they’re a cry for help,
you know?”
my attempt at writing something daily even if it’s just word *****
