to think that your first hard grip on my wrist wouldn't be the last
to think that i don't know what love should taste like
to think that your yells were out of care
to think that my hurt felt like home.
my home was hurt because you supplied it
your voice brought me back down to the earth
the bitter taste at the tip of my tongue was a gift from you
your hands a reminder of where exactly I belonged
Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 11:11 PM UTC
to think that your first hard grip on my wrist wouldn't be the last
to think that i don't know what love should taste like
to think that your yells were out of care
to think that my hurt felt like home.
my home was hurt because you supplied it
your voice brought me back down to the earth
the bitter taste at the tip of my tongue was a gift from you
your hands a reminder of where exactly I belonged