When I first met her, what I wrote was an introduction,
When we talk, what we had was a conversation,
When I opened up to her, what I had was tears running down my cheeks,
When I wrote a letter, what I did was a confession,
When she left, what I did was drown in a pool of emotions,
And all that’s left now are empty words, meaningless tears and papers.

Someone who writes a lot of poetry. Shit or not, they're mine. I'm also a lazy ass traveler. Stick and stone may break my bones, but staircases, they get me.
Posts created 51

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