Her aim was true,
her blade was sharp,
and her lighter was full of butane.
The trees gave cover,
the fire gave warmth,
and the moon gave enough light
to travel at night.
She only put trust into the few things
she could either control
or depend on through instinct.
And he made sure of that
without even knowing he was doing so.
YOU ARE READING
Call It What You Want [A Poetry Collection]
PoetryThis is for the misfits. the heavy hearts. the broken minds and the lost souls. this is for the bruised lovers with tainted skin. the options left behind, not good enough to be put first. this is for the readers, the feelers, the lovers, the fighter...
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