My head will never understand the fabrics of this world, my heart could.
I was mended by different love, all separate, stitching themselves into my skin.
Words will heal the willows once again, light will shine on your blue eyes and radiate.
With or without her, bolted boy.
YOU ARE READING
Roses In The Sun
PoetryA book dedicated to the thoughts that lie beneath the surface of all that I am, all that I will be, and all that I hope to become. A book dedicated to the outcasts, to those who've felt invisible, to those who want to read and fall in love with the...
