noisekölln

My poems will bleed out your name between every stanza. Let me paint your entirety with poetry and I will teach you that tomorrow means hope in another language. With fingers intertwined, I will whisper a prayer to the stars to heal all the wounds. I will kiss your monsters goodbye. And when morning comes, I’ll let you have the sun painted on your chest.

Thank you. Thank you for existing.

—  little love notes #1