stained wrists,
not of blood,
but watercolors.
painting calms the nerve,
soaking into my veins,
my brain.
scratches and scars
of sticks, stones, and words,
remain.
YOU ARE READING
-𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐬 ii.
Poetry"i've been hoping to get rid of you. forget you, wash away everything that you ever touched. but now that it's fading, i'm afraid. i don't want to forget. your smell of lavender and your heart of bronze. your eyes of chocolate and your angel wings."...
017
stained wrists,
not of blood,
but watercolors.
painting calms the nerve,
soaking into my veins,
my brain.
scratches and scars
of sticks, stones, and words,
remain.
