poems, thoughts

Every Weekend We Hitchhike To Hell

It's been two months since I heard your voice. I can't say I miss it. Your words made bullet holes that shattered my glass bones. What's that Paramore lyric? "And I don't pick up when you call 'cause your voice is a gun"  I can't say I miss my mosaic of a heart. It felt… Continue reading Every Weekend We Hitchhike To Hell