Subscribe   Submit Work   Log In


By InnerPoetryFreak, Eugene, OR

After the fire,
my skin went cold.

My heart iced over.

With everyone gone, I am the only survivor,
all happy memories clouded, all of my
love gone.

I made the ink.
All of it was black.

I brought out the needles.

The thorns wrapped around my skin

The wings spread across my back.

The rest of my skin


with ash roses.

Share this article:

Share on Facebook   Share on Google+   Share on Twitter

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this!