In the darkest hour of the night,
She woud often get up to write:
She would write to create worlds to escape into;
She would write down all the words she couldn't say to you.
She would write because no one wanted to hear.
She would write down all her fears.
She would write until her fingers swelled.
She would write to find heaven in corners of hell.
She would write because it was the only way to stay sane;
She would write to forget all her pain.
She would write to find a spark of light;
She would write to add colours to a world of black and white.
Whenever she felt like she was
slowly losing herself
she would sit and she would write
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 1:44 AM UTC
In the darkest hour of the night,
She woud often get up to write:
She would write to create worlds to escape into;
She would write down all the words she couldn't say to you.
She would write because no one wanted to hear.
She would write down all her fears.
She would write until her fingers swelled.
She would write to find heaven in corners of hell.
She would write because it was the only way to stay sane;
She would write to forget all her pain.
She would write to find a spark of light;
She would write to add colours to a world of black and white.
Whenever she felt like she was
slowly losing herself
she would sit and she would write