His horns hold up his halo.He is his own angel and his own demon.He is his own problem yet but not always his own solution.He was an angel after exorcising his demon and locking it in a coffin. Forgetting that you can't lock a spirit in a box.He was a new version of Yin and Yang. His mischief balanced out his good heart and kept him human. Not an angel nor a demon.A mere human whose halo bled the the blood of those around him.But his horns kept the blood from dripping down his face.
Evil and good, all in one.Human. Human. Human.
YOU ARE READING
The insides of a teenagers life.
PoetryThis collection of poems is raw and undiluted. My aim was to capture the emotion in the moment. Please enjoy the ups and downs of my life in words and let me know how you feel.
