After everything you said.
All the promises you made.
You ran and tried to
Avoid
You took pieces of me.
Sliced them from my skin.
And left nothing but
A void.
Dec 29, 2024
Dec 29, 2024 at 4:26 PM UTC
After everything you said.
All the promises you made.
You ran and tried to
Avoid
You took pieces of me.
Sliced them from my skin.
And left nothing but
A void.
The first poem I sent to you:
------------------------------------
In the spring glade,
In search of the most beautiful flower,
You,
A rose
Your intoxicating aura and view most striking,
Above all the others,
You
Arose
