My insecurities run so deep that they have fled through my toes into the soil, waiting for when I fall asleep so they can swallow me whole
YOU ARE READING
Drippings
PoetryThe space between thoughts and the little things that drip out when my back is turned.
8:27pm
My insecurities run so deep that they have fled through my toes into the soil, waiting for when I fall asleep so they can swallow me whole
