THIRTEEN
beneath the ivory of these fingertips
It was what laid beneath her fingertips
that they didn't understand,
The chaos that coated her flesh,
what caused such havoc in her head.
She could type heaven with her touch
and race hell along whatever she pleased.
That was what they feared.
What is your favorite holiday?
𐎀 Mine is personally Halloween! I love the entire vibe of spooky season. I love costumes, the makeup, the spookiness, & of course, the horror movie marathons!
May
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𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 ➙ 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘺
PoetryMELANCHOLY | Melancholy drips from my fingertips. Here, I will speak the sadness, the heartache, and the decaying for all the unspoken. Perhaps under this layer of melancholy, the girl I once knew still exists. First poetry collection i...
