They painted the bridge
And those initials don't exists
All that's left behind
Is ugly yellow splotches
The same shade as the dotted lineIt's like
Those people who belonged to those initials
Who drew a heart around them
For every driver and passerby to see
Are gone now
It's like they've vanished
Behind a thick veil of highways paint
YOU ARE READING
365 pt 2
Non-FictionHere's a continuation of 365, the story where I do my best to write SOMETHING every day. Wattpad has a chapter limit of 200, and that was reached on July 19th. So, the rest of the year will be written in this, I guess. The first 200 days of the year...