I bled the words I could not say. Poured it into a cup and drank it, swollowed every word. Now the bitter, crimson taste lingers on the tip of my tongue just like the vague thought of us inside my head.
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Chronicles Of Midnight
PoetryComposed of poetry and ideas and scenes from short stories that I probably wont write. A bunch of thoughts that might or might not make sense. #unorganized It gets better the further you read, so just keep reading or skip a few. Me.
Words Unsaid
I bled the words I could not say. Poured it into a cup and drank it, swollowed every word. Now the bitter, crimson taste lingers on the tip of my tongue just like the vague thought of us inside my head.