These sleepless nights come in packs;
Like the wolves that eat the sheep I count at night.
YOU ARE READING
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐎 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐅?
ПоэзияYou are the reason I have ink stains on my fingertips. art by yuschav arly
Losing sleep.
These sleepless nights come in packs;
Like the wolves that eat the sheep I count at night.
