Paper but washed out in a sense that whatever words were once on it are now in a sea of ink somewhere else
White weddings
Shadows I think i see you in
Wild patches of burning grass
and bonfires that burnt out years ago
Funerals without the fun
I wonder if I became washed out one day
If I burnt out just like the rest of them
Colourless and content
I'll visit you in black and white
YOU ARE READING
words
PoetryPoetry and thoughts and stuff I guess it's more for me to write down But you're here So feel free to read
