I
Find it
Hard to believe
In you after all of the
Bullshit that came before you.
YOU ARE READING
The Lonely Hour
PoetryNot everything rhymes Not everything has to Of all that is bright And what hides in darkness The loving The hiding The living The Binding It hurts us not To follow a purpose To quell our minds dullness And to find our own fullness. Of sentences Of...
