i wonder who i'd be
if i haven't lost you?
i sometimes wonder what
you'd still be calling me? yours?
dangerous, my skin
would be painted.
every last bit of my dignity
ripped up in front of me.
and i already know,
that the toxic
would mix in with love.
and i could only tell all of that
from four months
and one single more from not calling
you mine.
-zmh
YOU ARE READING
the ruins of me
Poetryi love you; said me every time foolishly. if you see any grammer mistakes, please do not hesitate to contact me politely about them! also credit to whoever may have taken the picture of the flowers for my cover, I did edit it a bit but other than...
