𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘥𝘰𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘎𝘰𝘥 POETRY

careworn and smiling with a crooked grin, adoration slept in the wrinkles beside his eyes as he observed the mosaic beauty. she held his callused palm in hers and whispered to the moon; "tonight, we're monsters." romanticism isn't always beautiful.

it will make sense in the morning.

summer's not as long as it used to be. a poetry book. © happypjm / 2017

creativity is just a blend of the [ a writing collection. ] truth and mistruth.

modernity quivers in the shadows of antiquity's gods • © sianna okaat 2017 • p744-130917

the gods are dying, mortality running through their veins. skytaints | all rights reserved ©

come a little closer, i wanna tell u how i feel.

pyrrhic victories © 2019 fighues

vanilla scented poetry