Razors Or Pens?
If black was an emotion it would be sorrow and anger in a combo of one. LIke the feeling of my heart beat against my chest as thy blood pumps with rage.
As one slits his wrists from depression, I take the other road. The road of courage to write this poem.
As one screams with dreadful anger, I write these golden letters.
Some people can't take pain. They don't feel accepted. I turn anything of the sort into a sorrowful yet glistening piece of art, with the hope of good luck waiting for