Hold me while we rot.
Hold me when we are nothing but buried treasures,
homes for things that wriggle,
and fuel for things that grow,
and still don't let go.
YOU ARE READING
starlit whispers
Non-Fictionpoetic entries from the diary of a pansexual, pangender, and often panicked individual. Most of them are unfinished half baked ideas because I am a mess of a person.
while we rot
Hold me while we rot.
Hold me when we are nothing but buried treasures,
homes for things that wriggle,
and fuel for things that grow,
and still don't let go.
