and slowly her world came
tumbling down
but when she reached for his hand to
save her
he was already
long gone.
-k.d.
Being a poet is like being really sick. But instead of vomit, words come out. This is my word vomit. More
and slowly her world came
tumbling down
but when she reached for his hand to
save her
he was already
long gone.
-k.d.