The dark of night blended with my skin, absorbing me into the sky as my freckles blinked like the shining stars; and when I cried on the last wee hours of May, everything else nourished in my absence.
As I float alongside the misty, grey clouds, my colours faded away.
(d.r.)
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Black & Poisonous
Poetry"She had 50 days left to live. She had 5000 words left to say." A compilation of 50-word poems by a child who longed to see a better future than the one they've set for themselves. Each piece takes 12 seconds to read. #833 - 27/05/17 #687 - 28/05...
