your number
still on the tips of my fingers
i punch it into the phone
breathing out the last bits of my fear
i'm tired of being scared
YOU ARE READING
unspoken words and a cup of coffee
Poesíaand the steam from the cup, rising up, up, and away
029
your number
still on the tips of my fingers
i punch it into the phone
breathing out the last bits of my fear
i'm tired of being scared