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The ghost you left a simple suggestion of memory And here I am on my knees left in pieces Pictures scattered Scrawled thoughts on torn papers and they beg to burn but yet I sit here still and yearn Come back to me
0
Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 5:14 PM UTC
Death
The ghost you left a simple suggestion of memory And here I am on my knees left in pieces Pictures scattered Scrawled thoughts on torn papers and they beg to burn but yet I sit here still and yearn Come back to me
I have no idea what I'm doing writing these. I'm kinda new to poetry overall so if you have any tips or advice, I'd greatly appreciate it!
elise-jaco
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Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 5:14 PM UTC
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