xviii. IN THE END.
you may have let me go
but your claw marks still burn red.
ŞİMDİ OKUDUĞUN
what tomorrow brings.
Şiirxvii, april. (iii). you have no voice if no one is listening. © playlist poetry h.r. : #3
xviii. in the end.
xviii. IN THE END.
you may have let me go
but your claw marks still burn red.