i murdered you once, in a dream
took you apart from hips to heartstrings
uncovered every inch under you skin
and marvelled in what you are:
imperfect, and human
so wonderfully human
in all the ways i have never been
because i lost my empathy
somewhere between the couch cushions as a child
and i've been borrowing yours ever since
CITEȘTI
collections of constellations and the stars || poetry collection
Poeziepoems often written at midnight, each telling its own story. an anthology of sorts. grammatically incorrect use of lowercase is an aesthetic choice and intentional. |incomplete|
