Them
- Reads 36
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- Parts 12
His brush strokes across the page leaving little pieces of himself in black on the page. Surrounded by white nothingness waiting for more of his soul.
Her eyes catch the light and the once brown orbs turn into many of colors I didn't know exiseted, an array of gold, brown, black, all mixed together.
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Some things are left seared into our hearts, etched like scars that never fade. Pieces of who I once was, drowning in the memories of warmth now replaced by blood. And yet my seven minutes were consumed by him. {cover is from Pinterest. Credits to the owner}
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