Slay
Before, you were the poems I wrote in every stanzas;
Now, you were just a past that demands to be written
Holding this pen and piece of paper of mine,
Until the last blot of ink on a line. 💔
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/77675033-288-k80730.jpg)
Forty-Two
Slay
Before, you were the poems I wrote in every stanzas;
Now, you were just a past that demands to be written
Holding this pen and piece of paper of mine,
Until the last blot of ink on a line. 💔