Do you know who you are when I write about you?
If so, don't you know I'm crawling?
I am on my knees waiting for you to just say
"Sorry."
I feel like feeling so deeply has caused your disappearance, that feels really heavy, fuck.
Because I would do anything to go back
either have said nothing at all or said more when I had the chance.
Goddamnit.
I'm at a still-point.
Hands up.
Guns pulled.
Just close your eyes.
YOU ARE READING
Roses In The Sun
PoetryA book dedicated to the thoughts that lie beneath the surface of all that I am, all that I will be, and all that I hope to become. A book dedicated to the outcasts, to those who've felt invisible, to those who want to read and fall in love with the...
