Made in A b y s s |Poem Collection| |COMPLETE|

When home didn't feel like home anymore,
When I had no place to go,
When those four walls started to caving in,
Whenever I felt like giving in,
I picked up a white paper and black ink,
I started to scribble my demons and miseries.
Who says you can't be broken yet beautiful.
Look at those walls I painted black and white.
They are such an aesthetic piece yet so free in me.
|~PICS ARE FROM TUMBLR OR PINTEREST~|
|~ORIGINAL WORK~|