I'm trying to replace you with old stolen rum, and I'm learning to associate the burning sensation residing in my stomach with the passion you never felt for me, and the shards of empty bottles on the floor with the pieces you forgot to pick up when you left me alone and shattered.
- A.R.
YOU ARE READING
Inversion
PoetryBasically a collection of poems I write that will be updated as soon as my brain returns from haitus.
