My words bled the ink I lost from all the poetry I wrote about you.
But I’d still write again.
Even if it meant that I’ll bleed dry, to own a heart that was never mine.
For you owned my world of words, and time.
My words bled the ink I lost from all the poetry I wrote about you.
But I’d still write again.
Even if it meant that I’ll bleed dry, to own a heart that was never mine.
For you owned my world of words, and time.