THIRTEEN
beneath the ivory of these fingertipsIt was what laid beneath her fingertips
that they didn't understand,
The chaos that coated her flesh,
what caused such havoc in her head.
She could type heaven with her touch
and race hell along whatever she pleased.
That was what they feared.
What is your favorite holiday?
𐎀 Mine is personally Halloween! I love the entire vibe of spooky season. I love costumes, the makeup, the spookiness, & of course, the horror movie marathons!May
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𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 ➙ 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘺
PoetryMELANCHOLY | Melancholy drips from my fingertips. SOON TO BE A PUBLISHED PAPERBACK. COMING 2025! This melancholy drips from my fingertips so slowly, you begin to forget I even exist. All of me, the hard parts of flesh you could never seem to love...