I wish you were just another broken promise,
Just another heartbreak,
Just one of my lies.
But you became
My notes to play,
My colours to paint,
My ink to write,
My wings to fly,
My relief in the darkest hour,
You became my muse.
YOU ARE READING
Ink Stuff
PoetryA drop of ink defines thousands of memories and millions of emotions. Cover by: Desi_damsel
