tried so hard to be on the same page
our fingers bled
I was dead set on the sublime
the hollow
the beginning
and they were shooting for the stars
the newness
the ending.
like the world ending,
crashing down on me
I could not stop it
but oh, I tried...
needless to say, the book couldn't take it
anymore
and burned.
YOU ARE READING
poems for the hunted
Poetry// the poems I write to prevent my soul from caving in // language: English
