THIRTY-ONE
i'm tired of ripping at this hole in my sleeve
over and over and over and over and over
The hole in my sleeve
laps at the hole in my heart.
Only, the hole in my heart
cannot simply be stitched
back together with
pretty thread.
Nothing about you and I
is that simple at all.
Three pet peeves?
𐎀 1. Being judgmental of people's music tastes.
2. Dry replies, unable to keep a conversation going.
3. Unnecessary yelling.
May
YOU ARE READING
𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 ➙ 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘺
PoetryMELANCHOLY | Melancholy drips from my fingertips. SOON TO BE A PUBLISHED PAPERBACK. COMING 2025! This melancholy drips from my fingertips so slowly, you begin to forget I even exist. All of me, the hard parts of flesh you could never seem to love...
