our song sounds like
butterfly wings.
like tongues scraping
against the inside of
a mouth that isn't theirs.
in the morning
i wake up to your heartbeat.
i feel your fingers tapping out
a rhythm on my hipbones.
you are my final cadence.
the last chord after years
of halves.
-c.h.
YOU ARE READING
how the words come
Poetry"this is the poetry that has come from finally realizing it is okay to be okay but also not okay at the same time." ~ 'how the words come' tells the story of overcoming the aftermath of an emotionally abusive relationship. the book is separated into...
