My hands
Are alight
With fire
I cannot feel
The warmth of
-when have I gone this cold?
YOU ARE READING
The Aftertaste
PoetryThese are just a bunch of shitty poems (at least I think they're poems) don't even waste your time
Seventy Four
My hands
Are alight
With fire
I cannot feel
The warmth of
-when have I gone this cold?
