like bricks held firmly together,
i built my walls up high
refusing to let anyone in
because i am so, so flammable
on the inside
and i refuse to let anyone
burn me again
so while he says that he'd
done nothing wrong,
i have the scars to prove otherwise.
YOU ARE READING
quarter to dawn {poetry}
Poesíaa collection of poems. you ask me why i like art and i tell you that the water colours bleed prettier than my wrists
