Tiny crimson droplets mar the fabric upon which I lay
I observe each individual fiber,
stained,
Soiled by a midnight mistake I may never be able to remove
You can only scrub so much
Until you must resort to bleaching things away.
May 2, 2020
May 2, 2020 at 3:28 AM UTC
Tiny crimson droplets mar the fabric upon which I lay
I observe each individual fiber,
stained,
Soiled by a midnight mistake I may never be able to remove
You can only scrub so much
Until you must resort to bleaching things away.
One hell of a nosebleed
