p o e t r y

47

Your hands are like match sticks

each stroke alights a spark

embers trickle down your cheeks

when you think of home

but darling I'm afraid I cannot love you

for I have a paper heart

A/N

I've been really sad lately, i'm sick of social pressures,girl schools, nasty girls making nasty rumors and being overall nasty and manipulative .. i'm sick of being sad and i just want to go home//