Her Chicken Scratch / Poetry

Untitled Stars

She cupped the candle with both hands. Being careful to make sure that her hands didn’t shake out the flame. It casted a warm glow against the grey walls of her mind. Scratching the terrible wallpaper off that used to rest in her grandfather’s house. Her hands were young but lined, a silver metal ring resting at the end of her thumb. However faint the heat, her palms soaked from the flame, quickly dispatched to her heart.  Written by Alecia Writes 

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