how do you expect me to fall for someone else when the image of your head between my thighs is still burned in the back of my mind?
YOU ARE READING
permanently unfinished.
Poetrywe write our feelings on paper because we have no one to turn to when our vision is blurred by tears and our chests are crushed with sadness.
taste.
how do you expect me to fall for someone else when the image of your head between my thighs is still burned in the back of my mind?
