dear oliver,
“hey,” your voice
carried down my
spine like a
b r o k e n
r e c o r d
being scratched
into a thousand
shards.
i didn’t know
how to respond,
how to react
to a simple
word from
the you.
“hey, freak,”
you smirked
and walked
away.
quinn
YOU ARE READING
zero
PoetryQuinn scribbles tainted emotions across thin layers of white paper. But to who? To someone who blinks once, sees her, and blinks again-just to make her disappear. To someone who sees her as a symbol of the ocean. To someone who thinks the ocean is...
