he wasn't your usual cup of tea. he was pumpkin spice lattes and caramel macchiatos but your tolerance for milk never stopped you. he was unusual, unorthodox, but you were sure you wanted every part of him, all the pieces of him that didn't fit in your puzzle. he was stuck to your veins like a stubborn parasite and silly girl, you never once minded that he stole the fragments of your heart, never to give it back.
YOU ARE READING
crimson
Poetry'here a seventeen year old with such a hurricane of emotions talks and rambles about her musings, and writes about lovers she hasn't met and heartbreaks she hasn't yet experienced,as well as others in its rawest state with the hopes that they may b...
