the smell
of gasoline and
the smell
of hospitals,
a deep breath.
she was riding, reckless;
all bloody,
scattering wickedly rich colors
to the floor.
her
happiest moments.

Categories: Art, Poetry, UncategorizedTags: art, c.eve, dark, dark art, dark poetry, eve, ofeve, poem, poet, poetry, shadowofeve, thefirsteve, writing