Everyone is bringing flowers. I don’t have enough vases to put them in. Do they think I’m made of vases? How dare they make me responsible for not allowing another thing to die?
Category: Macro Poetry (Page 2 of 3)
Photo credit: PactoVisual
look at us all sitting here
with pieces missing
acting like we’re whole
I don’t know if they’d like what I have to say, either.
