Poems from Silva219
Blade sharp atmosphere surrounds my throat and clenches ruthlesslyTo think air is what ends meBut it's not air, it's more, it's pure soul...
Intertwined fingers in your matted strings of pretrial wisdom and soul--- did I let you too far, fore now I feel the tole
The heart...
She emulates thick pitch blackness as she claws her way across the cold reflective surface
Dark tar designs etched in her face, spilling...