Blistered Lips
S Stefanie Fontker
0
Altın Yaprak
She holds onto the sleeve of a watchman,
Though he would name her unfound,
Head turned to gaze across an ocean.
Her heart was birthed of bright silver,
His of a million shades of gold,
An impure cut to her once bled vein.
To be made of glass was her sin of a blazing sun,
But his love was made of deep piercing hurt.
His heart was trained to bite, not kiss.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş