Tag Archives: natalie crick

On rainy days I give myself per­mis­sion To touch the glass And see your remains: Tis­sues, shad­ows, All that is left Of you. Danc­ing with ghosts Over dark hills. Sky­larks, old dear. When I stand in your old room I feel so sad that I mas­tur­bate … Con­tin­ue read­ing →