I was nieve, I tripped and fell. Over the heart thought I knew so well. Silly me, I was a fool. He was caustic and I knew. It was out of my hands and over my head. Out of my mind alone in bed. What do you do with a heart when you take it? Maybe you love it, maybe you break it. You were callous, I played it cool. You were careless and also the fool.
BY TARA TURIELLO
L.A Loup Gris 