when love dies,
you become
less of a human
more of a ghost
and haunted bones.
YOU ARE READING
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐎 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐅? | ✅
PoetryYou are the reason I have ink stains on my fingertips. art by yuschav arly
