She sits and writes and inks her heart,
The happy, sad and detailed parts.
She moves her pen to and fro,
Lines of letters- high and low.
She scratches out the unwanted words.
The ones that are filled with anger and hurt.
And when she puts down the pen,
Her heart bled out- to refill again.
YOU ARE READING
Polaroids Lost in Time
PoésieOriginal poems, short stories and lost polaroids. Some sad and others bittersweet.
