He makes
and forget
the past.
Forget
the present.
Forget
the future.
I soak
his smile
into my skin.
I drink
his voice in.
I am drunk
recognized.
YOU ARE READING
My Heart Is So Tired: Part Two (Winter)
PoetryWe meet Tage again in the cold months of winter and she tells us her story through cracks in the ice. What does it take to fix a broken girl?
