Every morning there is a new fragrance in my bed while I try to get over you.
I have never felt such filling emptiness
than looking under me
and seeing eyes that are not yours staring back.
YOU ARE READING
Of Citrus, Honey, and Melancholy ● Poetry ●
Poetry❝Part into me like an orange and make me spill over your fingertips.❞ ------------------------ An original collection of poetry and raw confessions about queer sexuality and pain. Please read at your own discrimination.
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Every morning there is a new fragrance in my bed while I try to get over you.
I have never felt such filling emptiness
than looking under me
and seeing eyes that are not yours staring back.
