They didn't understand, so I attempted to make them understand: It feels as though you are constantly grasping my nape and pushing my face into a bucket of water, repeating this process over and over again 'til the end of time. . .but time does not end.
YOU ARE READING
Bleeding Blue
PoetryI do not see color anymore. I cannot love no more. I don't think I want to live furthermore. Genre: Poetry
