a sort of trepidation
that accompanied each butterfly gesture
served as the puncture weapon of a daily wound.
today, the empty hole left within me-
filled with inevitable aftermath.
I'll wallow through the ocean of your absence.
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 10:15 PM UTC
a sort of trepidation
that accompanied each butterfly gesture
served as the puncture weapon of a daily wound.
today, the empty hole left within me-
filled with inevitable aftermath.
I'll wallow through the ocean of your absence.
4/2/15
I guess you could say I saw it coming
