My hands are destructive,
they ruin anything they graze.
Sometimes I really don't mean to destroy everything
but I can't help it when I do.
YOU ARE READING
Starry night skies (completed)
PoetryUnder the canopy of a thousand stars, she found that her hands sang the words of her tender heart, the notes captured perfectly in pages that were stained a deep brown. cocooned in the embrace of a hundred constellations, ...
D e s t r u c t
My hands are destructive,
they ruin anything they graze.
Sometimes I really don't mean to destroy everything
but I can't help it when I do.
