broken bones and wilted roses; the pain in a poets heart, is beauty.
Why Why does every heated word out of your mouth feel like a punch right to the chest. Why Why do I feel so twisted and gnarled, like you've morphed my bones into shapes unknown.
By Sydney Field5 years ago in Poets
One slip, word vomit. One taste, actual vomit. The presence is intoxicating. So slippery of a slope, it can be nauseating.
