{Re-written bc the person i wrote this about is no longer relevant Dx}
My problem was i looked at you like you gave the world warmth,
And you looked at me like i was the cause of the word death.
[Everything in this book is hella old until after "such small hands"]
YOU ARE READING
Metanoia
Poetry"YOU LEFT BRUISES I CANNOT ERASE WITH FOUNDATION THIS TIME" These are just really shitty old poems tbh But i hope you guys are well c: © [Ranked #467 || poetry] [[Completed]]