writing and rotting
Thursday, June 13, 2019
We should have left our love
In the gutter where
We found it,
instead of
Planting flowers and hoping
For the best
All good things must
Come to an end,
And i'd like to think
I was a good
Thing
How naive i had been
To believe you had the heart
And strength to love me;
A creature so heavy and
large it broke
Your arms
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