people don't love me
they love the facade
they love the thrill of being in the presence of
damaged goods
YOU ARE READING
stars • poetry
Poetry{stars} "she was carried to land from the stars up above where heavenly angels learn about love and although she was grateful her wings began growing a dark faded color that was in its last brewing she had turned on the good and made peace with the...
148.
people don't love me
they love the facade
they love the thrill of being in the presence of
damaged goods
