a sapphic poem w/ no title
I watched as she played Russian roulette with her demons
Seen them take pretty souls like her on the daily
Tasted the unsure promise of death on her lips
Witnessed her drowning in endless sorrows but too scared to jump in
How do you heal something that’s been broken countless times?
My hands have been ridden with scars trying to pick up the pieces of her glass heart
She traded the my hand for the reaper's
I guess there was no use in saving her
If you listened closely you could hear her make melodies from the sound of crashing trains
For she was an already burning building with water around her
A being so magical she rebirthed her body from the ashes of despair













