Published in
1 min readNov 23, 2017
When I find it hard to love you,
I pick up an old shirt of yours.
I see the woven fabric, intertwined and yielding
The faded colour of what used to be
And the weariness of it all melts me just a little.
When I find it hard to love you,
I pick up an old shirt of yours.
I see the woven fabric, intertwined and yielding
The faded colour of what used to be
And the weariness of it all melts me just a little.