i left the tea on the counter to evaporate
the fighting around me fell to a dreary stalemate
the drone of the ceiling fan sounds so simple
remembering when my strongest shield was a thimble
in the days where my ankles weren't made of lead
where i wasn't drowning in all the things i never said
i remember the days when i would bitch and whine
they still sewed my cuts up with string and twine
YOU ARE READING
Serenity - A Journal Of Some Sort
RandomThey tell me that what I create is chaos. But what I create is the only thing that brings me serenity. ~ warning: this book abruptly switches from deep personal narratives to really random stuff so hop on and enjoy the ride
