The stench of death must've seeped into my skin, taking my clothes off, it just got stronger.
Oh, I forgot I was dead and this is my autopsy, weird.
YOU ARE READING
Roses In The Sun
PoetryA book dedicated to the thoughts that lie beneath the surface of all that I am, all that I will be, and all that I hope to become. A book dedicated to the outcasts, to those who've felt invisible, to those who want to read and fall in love with the...
