and he said to me,
"it doesn't matter whether it's art to you or art to them. what matters is that it makes someone feel something, honey. that's the realest thing out there."
he smiled with an acrylic grin like
it meant something poetic
but he was just a part of it too.
. . . I still believe it.
YOU ARE READING
little blue flowers
PoetryA collection of original poetry by Ella Petrichor. Highest Rank: #152 in Poetry (6/14/18) **COMPLETED** ::Excerpt:: "betrayal along the seams" A melancholic pallor lining her face She stood in the doorway Beating the shit out of that old rug As thou...
