while she was holding hands and
filling hearts, i called myself alone
and i wished for someone- even though i
had you
and we can blame it on my queer sexuality and
heteronormative dreams, as i
know you do, or we could
blame it on our empty hands. and i'm sorry,
i couldn't love you like i wanted to
like i wanted you to, but
love is destructive flawed and fleeting.
i am destructive flawed and fleeting.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem