Poems from Raivynne
Upon the beating of my rebel heart
Lies weight so heavy I can hardly breathe
I cannot place the feeling, but I know
That things are not as...
If he were a book….
An old, leather-bound book with creasy pages and that inky-paper smell.
The yellowed pages that crackle and release...
Sometimes, when I look at him, he looks back at me.
Right at me. Through me, into me.
It’s like his gaze sees into my head, rendering my...