18/6/2021
Skin as pale as the moon light and hair of black fire a crown of thorns with teeth as sharp as a vampire a skinny waste and petite figure with blood dripping from her scars, tears on her face hating her reflection she's been spending all this time waiting for her resurrection.
A skirt down to her thighs with a tail of blood sticking out the back wings of bone she has a deadly moan horns of ice with bloody veins she is the queen of the dark and has a thing for pain, she has a figure with a beautiful figure she's Doubting herself and cutting herself but she doesn't see what I see.
I have scars too I share the pain I'm a king without a castle a body without a shadow a sun without any light but for you baby I would fight I'll kiss you slowly and feel the warmth off your neck I'm never going to let you be alone again.
I'll wipe your tears away we could be king and queen of this fucked up realm where the shadows are all we need I can hold you tightly and heal your scars because baby I know this world can be harsh.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry of a foster kid
PoesíaThis is a collection of poetry I made from ages 15 to 17 it's about mental health and growing up the last few years in foster care it's a journey about maturing as a kid but also learning to grow and deal with my demons in the on going battle of eve...
