The look in her eyes spoke of broken pieces, she inhaled blue and exhaled black.
Her lips pursed red, her words vile and sharp made her own mouth bleed, her finger tips and knuckles were yellow and orange parted, but when together a dark purple, the enforcers of her words.
A lit cigarette hung from her mouth as she knew her battle was over.
She won.
But then again she lost, in a way no one else would understand, her head will always hang low, as she learns she's better off lonely.
YOU ARE READING
Sun, Moon, and Stars
PoetryThis is a book of non/poetry A book of my thoughts, my feelings, and my everyday life. This started out about me but, now means so much more, this is for you, all of you. Thank you for making my wildest dreams come true!♥️ #961 in poetry, 2-8-18!
