You left her in the morning with unanswered questions and stolen innocence.
Her bed held the scent of their mistakes.
She can still feel the grip of your hands in her hair.
She can still taste the curiosity of your mouth on her cheek.
She regrets nothing.
-Lily P. McLaughlin-
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 10:05 AM UTC
