i am never
what
anyone wants.
i think with
my
heart; and it
kills
me every
time.
i dive
too damn deep
and i
choke on my
mistakes.
YOU ARE READING
plastic
Poetrymost wings are made of bones and skin and feathers, but what if mine are made of nothing but rubber and glue?
i am not what you want
i am never
what
anyone wants.
i think with
my
heart; and it
kills
me every
time.
i dive
too damn deep
and i
choke on my
mistakes.
