he went away.
while you were scrubbing away the pain,
while you were drowning in tears.
while you were walking through hell.and when he comes back,
show him your scars.
show him your demons.
show him your fears."because he tossed you
to hell and you will not
give him heaven."
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poems are made by myself
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- w.
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Anemoia. #Wattys2019 ⛔
Poetry[HIATUS] (a) Nostalgia for a time you have never known. "The past is a foreign county; they do things differently there." -L.P Hartley hypothetical questions going through my mind every day and night.🔆. a writer goes through hundreds of different s...