tides will eventually
wash away the sand line again.
and when they do,
i promise to change.
-unknown attempt number
YOU ARE READING
the ink of my heart | poetry
Poetryshe sits there, naked and exposed to the artist hiding away behind the blank canvas; tears stream down her face while goosebumps trace her skin for she is vulnerable against the world trying to paint her picture perfect to its eye. |unnamed...
66
tides will eventually
wash away the sand line again.
and when they do,
i promise to change.
-unknown attempt number
