let any light, the stars or street pity me and leak right in uncover me to cool, grey air the liquid slip of springtime chill leftover thoughts of what remains the bruise of life, the drawn out scars will blanket me sufficiently
WRITER | FEMINIST | FRIEND
let any light, the stars or street pity me and leak right in uncover me to cool, grey air the liquid slip of springtime chill leftover thoughts of what remains the bruise of life, the drawn out scars will blanket me sufficiently