she loves to tell him about beauty.
How poetic the world can really sound
The blood wasn't so pretty before, it was just red
before you made it so poetic it was just pain
the way a broken heart is a healing soul
when the glass finally breaks
when the ship finally sinks
there's nothing really beautiful at all
that's what makes it
the fragments turn to seeds where a lonely blue garden blows
the waves bring the remains of lost ships to the islands and the ocean eats its soul along with it
everything is beautiful
YOU ARE READING
Hysterical letters to my sanity
Poetrya collection of poems inspired by stories I've read, people I've met and paths I've crossed, read and enjoy yourself:)
