there was a girl.
a girl who lived in the haunting streets of her mind,
a ghost of home she couldn't find.
she mostly paint on her canvas
but her paintings are often messy,
creating chaotic hues of tragedy.
the strokes on her brushes
resonating the past
shadows again appearing in vast.
she tried to patch some wounds,
but it takes more than a band-aid
for it to mend.
YOU ARE READING
intricate skies
Poetrysaltwater splattered on these blank pages while she still bleeds.
