Hold me one last time before I go.
Pin me up on your walls as if I have tattered old wings. I'm just a moth but you see butterflies in me. My wings are ripped at the edges yet you do not care. I am just a moth. I flew towards blank heat stumbling. I fell faster and harder than I could really remember. But that day I learned to fly. For I am just a moth. I am colorless. Yet to you I'm colored in.
YOU ARE READING
Human
Non-FictionThings I've wrote about my life. I hope it helps you get through things. It's funny when you don't care anymore to hide your demons. So what I'm broken. I'm not beyond repair. So I'll stick around here and try to make things better. And never go ge...
