i knew we were done when you stumbled into my house smelling of cigarette smoke and vanilla perfume.
YOU ARE READING
permanently unfinished.
Poesíawe 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.
was it her?
i knew we were done when you stumbled into my house smelling of cigarette smoke and vanilla perfume.
