The rain that was once a drizzle became a merciless torrent. The fire in her eyes became insatiable flames. Gone is the spark that rivaled the stars, for she has become overwrought with war. The storm inside her broke into tumult, treachery and chaos clung to her bones. Her ink has dried, her pages torn. Broken crayons still color but broken pens don't write anymore.
YOU ARE READING
Written Constellations
PoetryA constellation of prose, poetry, and verses spun together for a galaxy of love, life, heartache, and hope.
