Her matted hair made up of cigarette butts and ash
Liquor drips from her skin
Alcoholic sweat beads cling to the crusted cloth that once hugged her curves
Her hands grope for more sustenance of the most futile hopes that it will bring peace
There is no peace
No glimmering ray of hope
No rainbows emitting from roses on these patches of deprived flesh
Love is a unicorn
Only dwelling in the hearts and mind of those who let it
About the Creator
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Vale Perficientur
"My tears need a minute to find the edges of my face. If you'll please excuse me." The sarcasm stabbed into Juliana’s heart. Antonia glared at her from the pit of the Lyceum as her student fought to hold back tears that had nothing to do with the pain in her fingers. “You’re better than this, again.”
By Matthew Fromm3 days ago in Fiction
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