She spits in the ashes form
the bridge that she burned
creating a past
to paint on her terms
her soul streached like canvas
her hair as her brush
she remembered your words
corroded like rust
she paints to forget
rust orange ash black
she dips her brush in
ready to attack
first she makes one stroke
and then she makes to two
but each stroke she makes
still reminds her of you
- Ever Jae Larkin
YOU ARE READING
The big book of poetry.
RandomThis book it written by the people of wattpad. Some of them aren't gonna ryme and that's ok. I just want people to get there work out there. And at the end of the their page i am gonna give them a shout out and feedback if they want it.
