Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
rig f laurel May 24
her name caught a question in my throat:
its first utterance barely completed
and i felt her hate engulf my all.
i touch the scars upon her back, still
gold in the lightlessness of her doom,
longing for stripped rainbows - turned to mist.
she’ll forever resent my living
beside her living half. my love for
colors she herself once stood for too.

— The End —