he was the boy you're supposed to turn your head to
with the cold eyes and devilish smile
he was pure terror
but maybe if you looked harder
you'd see the dirt under his nails
sprouting flowers
his broken face turning to you
when you say he has the prettiest smile
you ever did see
the ice in his eyes
chipping away to reveal
the crevices of the grand canyon
so cracked and untouched
he was pure terror
but even terror
deserves to be loved
YOU ARE READING
ode to simplicity
Poetrypoems, thoughts, and pain for those who admire the clouds the same
