Broke open. And though that cold stone Turned to flesh It now aches In a way I don’t know how to heal And guilt fills Where apathy rested Where love should grow And I go mad With remorse. Irredeemably?
All rights reserved © 2024 Josephine Joyil
Broke open. And though that cold stone Turned to flesh It now aches In a way I don’t know how to heal And guilt fills Where apathy rested Where love should grow And I go mad With remorse. Irredeemably?
All rights reserved © 2024 Josephine Joyil