out
of
all
the
people
who
could
have
broke
my
heart
and
ripped
me
to
shreds,
why
on
Earth
did
it
have
to
be
you?
-k.d.
YOU ARE READING
life as we know it
PoetryBeing a poet is like being really sick. But instead of vomit, words come out. This is my word vomit.