" I like playing tic tac toe" she said, when I marked out the marks on her skin.
Apparently, she used a blade for a pen, and her skin for the paper.
When I confronted her about it, she promised she won't do it again, " Cross my heart and hope to die!" She promised.
She did die.
Excessive blood loss was the reason they said, but I knew the truth.
She was just playing.
Only, she hadn't realised that she would've lost.
YOU ARE READING
Way Ward
PoetryLife is a jumbled mess. And from within this mess, I'm gifting you "your" stories, along with the stories of some other lost souls. Way Ward - A way to find your lost self.
