[ Trough words, letters, messages and phone calls. Trough songs, poems and pictures. Trough black and blue, coma and worse; our pulse never stopped synchronizing. ]
#68 in Short Story on February 13th 2015
incoherent babbling from a low place in my mind. my poetry doesn't follow any rules.
✨lots of cursing✨depression✨hopeless romantic babble✨
proceed with caution.
2016-2017