You cut me so deeply,
And then spat on my wounds.
And yet, when you scrape your knee,
I have to fight the urge to come running.
I still want you to be okay.
Seems like I'm dying either way.
Jul 31, 2019
Jul 31, 2019 at 5:14 AM UTC
You cut me so deeply,
And then spat on my wounds.
And yet, when you scrape your knee,
I have to fight the urge to come running.
I still want you to be okay.
Seems like I'm dying either way.
Request permission to use this poem