Tell me.
Are the nights dark?
Does any part of you reaches out?
And when you grasp nothing,
Do you understand why I left?
I hope you do.
It would hurt just a little less,
If you understand.
YOU ARE READING
The Ink Spilling From My Pen ✔
Poesía* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The ink that spilled out of my pen formed these poetry. * ** * * * * * * * * * * ** ** * * ** * * ** * ** ** *** ** * * ** * * ** A random poetry collection that spill...
