Poems from IsabellaH
It's like the taste of bitter coffee in the morning.
Like a gaping hole in one's chest & a constant gnawing of bones & the...
I dislike making choices and singling out,
but dare I say, I dislike the stress of bland numbers and the staleness of eggs.
I dislike the ...
The Fall is a feeling, not a time or place.
It is orange and brown, and the nips of wind blowing.
It's broccoli and cheese, and the...