i wish that i could express
how you make me ache
in this poem
but my ink would dry
long before
i could write down
all the names that you've called me
when you thought i couldn't hear.
YOU ARE READING
weeds.
Poetrysometimes you need to return to the soil to feel the triumph of what once grew.
lucky
i wish that i could express
how you make me ache
in this poem
but my ink would dry
long before
i could write down
all the names that you've called me
when you thought i couldn't hear.
