Ill scratch your name in to my skin
ill scream your name in a crowded airport
ill splatter your name on my wall
ill whisper your name in to my palm
ill burn your name in to the fields
ill sing your name in an empty auditorium
ill wear your name as my own.
YOU ARE READING
jumbled thoughts.
Poetrysometimes you need to bleed out words to feel okay. sometimes those bled words take the shape of a poem.
