His Steady Gaze Was Even Softer Than His Voice.
It Reached Out To The Broken Parts Of Her Like A Caress.
The Type Of Touch That Moves Through Damaged Flesh,
Past Fractured Bones
Every Touch Created Colours She Had Never Seen.
Colours As Soft As Velvet And As Sharp As Sparks That Turned Into Stars.
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||Will-O'-The-Wisp || 💫#FreeMentalIllness ||Wattys 2020||
Poetry✿*:･ﾟPoetry ﾟ･:*✿ ~FEATURED ON WATTPAD'S POETRY LIST~ ||•WINNER Of The Recognition Awards•|| ||WINNER of The Second Ohana Awards|| ||WINNER of The Best Aesthetics In April Jane's Awards|| ||WINNER of the Constellation Awards|| ||WINNER of the Young...
