Poems from Brianna A. Ward
I should have the words Don't Shoot tattooed across my open palms.
That way when black turns to midnight, the neon dye will shine like a...
Here lies the epitome of everything that is wrong with me.
May he rest peacefully in the afterlife knowing that after I left his life the...
How many times has he looked at me and thought failure?
Thought incompetent?
Allowed his irises to graze over my tattered ruins and blink...
Nights like this remind me that life is a miracle.
When certain death turns tragedy into smiles
And broken bones mend and turn into healed...
If I could remix yesterday,
I'd play your voice on repeat
Not your 10 o'clock voice, your 4 AM one
The one that says I'm more important to...