I'll find you darling
if you're meant for me
me
nothing can stop that, baby
did I tell you
I hug your jacket in my sleep?
I'm just a work in progress
now and
indefinitely.
~
15.9.16
YOU ARE READING
Tasting Hearts
PoetryPoetic gibberish from a teenage logophile where a girl writes what her fingers tell her to on the skeleton of rhyme, rhythm and reason.
