The artwork
I pull out my brushes
Responsible for betrayal
I pressed it to the canvas
Beautiful
Beady red
Trails behind
Line by line
Uncovering dark past
Laying my head to the wall
I drown in
That drunk feeling
Coming alive
Once again
Tire
Living again
I survived.
YOU ARE READING
Short stories
Acakwhen i realised that using notes app doesnt automatically save it to your phone, i decided to write them here. i still lost alot of good plots, characters and stories. RIP.
