his smirk was enough
to force me
into the shameful deed
of setting a book on fire.
believe me
when i inform you this:
i would never burn a letter
if my life depended on it.
but damn
his smirk
was
p o w e r f u l .
YOU ARE READING
shaded wings
Poesíaher wings would bloom when the pencil drew shades of black and white and tare into two when her body flew into the camouflage of night her heart was sewn to anyone but her own forgetting to love herself but there's a boy that knows his love for he...
