We carry our broken hearts tight, wondering about the 3 a.m thoughts and the mixed signals.
A couple of shots and laughter to make the pain less bitter, was all we needed for 7 hours.
Poetry, cheesy sad songs, car drives and pizza were everything we did to feel more fearless.
And for once we knew where we belonged.
YOU ARE READING
Blooming thoughts.
PoetryAnd the flowers that he grew in my lungs turned to wilted flowers, making it harder to breathe. And then the rain made them bloom again.
