the wind was chilling my bones
the way that you used to
as all of it swept
so did I
in the midst of me
I lost myself
in all of those pale nights
all of the water in the air
drops of melancholic pain
perhaps it was the being
the being of broken
a gentle soul fearing
so much to fear
once it dropped
blackness all over
the imprint of ink
scattered on her palm
as fore today
the only thing
was her
Jun 29, 2016
Jun 29, 2016 at 11:36 PM UTC
the wind was chilling my bones
the way that you used to
as all of it swept
so did I
in the midst of me
I lost myself
in all of those pale nights
all of the water in the air
drops of melancholic pain
perhaps it was the being
the being of broken
a gentle soul fearing
so much to fear
once it dropped
blackness all over
the imprint of ink
scattered on her palm
as fore today
the only thing
was her
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