SEVENTY
thunder in this heart of mineAnd maybe we are being
written in the same storybook.
Maybe our veins are overlapping.
Is that why I can feel the thunder
clashing under my flesh?
There is a roar in your heart; it's in mine, too.
We're bleeding the same letters.
Are you writing the same tragedy
that's dripping from my lips?
Describe your life in three words
𒐀 Unpredictable , unusual, crazy.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...