It took soaring butterflies to help me escape
your grasp.
I can remember how it's supposed to feel.
Blissful with no doubts
at all.
YOU ARE READING
Black Coffee
PoetryA series of small things that cause my brain to erupt in what looks like words. Poetry, prose, and small excerpts. ***there are some explicit/triggering chapters*** ***Mostly dark material*** ♤ "It flows through my veins. Kind of like a plant that...
56 - Path
It took soaring butterflies to help me escape
your grasp.
I can remember how it's supposed to feel.
Blissful with no doubts
at all.
