As the moon grew full
so did the sorrow in her mind,
the night she picked up the knife
instead of the pen
For the drops on the floor were more poetically true of
her innerself than her open ended words on that paper
could ever be...
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 10:32 PM UTC
As the moon grew full
so did the sorrow in her mind,
the night she picked up the knife
instead of the pen
For the drops on the floor were more poetically true of
her innerself than her open ended words on that paper
could ever be...
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