the gift.
I wonder if I'm still there, hanging around your neck bruised and battered.
With the crimson heart sitting on a faded purple background.
Showered and slept with.
Worn down from all that represents what you mean to me and our past and future.
Or perhaps, I've been thrown in one of your plastic drawers,
with everything else you only look at once or twice a week.
With the crimson heart sitting on a faded purple background.
Showered and slept with.
Worn down from all that represents what you mean to me and our past and future.
Or perhaps, I've been thrown in one of your plastic drawers,
with everything else you only look at once or twice a week.