Poems from madiwall
although i have not kept count of the amount of people who have walked out of my life,
like a train leaving the station—fast, abrupt, all-...
your love is inferior,
like cheap wine, bitter;
you suck the oxygen out of me
until i am empty again.
your hand on the steering wheel,...
i dont call it poetry, i call it
letting go
melting onto paper like wax,
the words heal me in a way that the body can't.
when was the last...