Red white and blue
I keep them in my little box of altoids.
on the second shelf in a wooden decoration I made last time I was stuck
people broke my soul so I chose to cut the parts they didn't like
The pain was my muse. And the red only increased the blue in the pit of my stomach
So I got to a point where only one was enough. One for everytime.
It sucks cuz I know there'll always be more room
This poem is about:
Me