Her
favourite Game
is something called
Ghosts and Færie Rings
She
taught me
how to play
one warm Summer Night
We
sat in
the old Graveyard
and listened for Ghosts
every
time We
heard one whisper
We searched for Færies
never could
ever manage to
beat Her even once
She
only found
Them because She
was pure Magic Herself
YOU ARE READING
The Autopsy of Ashes (Victoria)
PoetryThis is the Story of Victoria. i Loved Her. i Hated Her. i Needed Her. She Created me. She Destroyed me. She is Everyone who ever got away. She is Your favourite Song. She is Everything. She is the Ashes of Your house. She is Nothing. She is You...
