What do you think?
Rate this book
“You’ll carry my bruises for a goddamn lifetime.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a promise.”
I’m a poet. A shitty one, but still. But right now, not a single one feels right for her. I have words, I do. Just…none worthy of her.
She talks, and I listen. It’s as simple—and complicated—as that. I don’t care what she’s saying; I just care that she’s saying it.