POETRY | MENTAL HEALTH | LOVERS
Panacea
A poem
Oct 11, 2024
You told me you’d write me a poem.
It was three a.m., and I could smell the storm clouds under your skin.
You can’t silence depression by making love.
But we tried.
You told me you’d write me a poem.
It was three a.m., and I could smell the storm clouds under your skin.
You can’t silence depression by making love.
But we tried.
