dear oliver,
i could hear you breathing.
i could hear your heart
aching for the single touch
of innocence you lacked.
i could hear you sigh
as she walked over to you.
i guess you’re getting
tired of yourself too.
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...
