" Are you a psychopath or just a broken piece of artifact that is so broken that even gold lining would look ugly on you "
I look at him, his hands Caressing my cheek, it was slightly rough, slightly soft. I let him do that.
I finally say
" I was never meant for the gold lining because I am the gold lining "
I touch his hands and push it away from my face.
He was just as broken, his mind just as a mess, his bones just as tired as his soul but he held on, his mind won't leave.
I held his hands and pull him in.
STAI LEGGENDO
Eunoia
PoesiaA soul of a writer, a poet, an artist never dies they are immortal cause they carry a magic of ink splattered on paper. ♡♡♡ Somewhere deep there lies the raging ocean of emotions beneath us, So maybe tracing do...
