i adore cold weather.
But not for the fires,
Or the warmth of another person.
I find something beautiful about it,
And maybe even a bit lonely.
It reminds me of bittersweet loss,
And finding the strength to move on.

She drew happy faces all over my arms.
She drew smiley faces over my scars.
She showed me with ink and blue marks,
the answer is a pen, not a blade, to make art.

Look
It
Book
Read
At
Revise
Yeah