Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2019
The will to hold back tears
To not submit to fear.
The birth of bandaids
To hide bruises and scars made.
The talent of using words
To misguide the ignorant world.
A cool barrel shoved with daggers,
A ticket to enter hell or heaven.
Or just eternal blindness, deafness, talking...less
...
It’s bliss, isn’t it?
Might edit this later ~ was busy irl so just something of the top of my mind
Written by
Silver Raven  19/F
(19/F)   
312
   Fawn
Please log in to view and add comments on poems