Don’t you love the way your hands fit
to my throat?
Don’t you love how you can
reduce me to nothing?
I am nothing,
everything. Yours,
and gone.
If you ever loved me,
if you ever knew me,
if I was ever anything to you
other than broken,
tighten your grip,
so you can let me go.
If you ever
by
Tags:
Comments
-
That’s damn harsh. Sing it, Jones. Sing it loud.
Leave a Reply