Wrizzit
For everything, down to the scribbles.
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You were my muse and all I could write were love poems But now that you’re gone, or lost, or just quiet— I write about the you-shaped hole in the middle of my chest I miss love poems
7
For everything, down to the scribbles.
You were my muse and all I could write were love poems But now that you’re gone, or lost, or just quiet— I write about the you-shaped hole in the middle of my chest I miss love poems