I've always liked the colour red.
It brought me comfort from the monsters under my bed. From my little red dress to the berry red shade of my curtains in my childhood room, it provided mercy from sin.
Though for some reason, the crimson stain on my snow white top did not bring condolence to my consciousness. Here I was, with my recumbent status, outstretched and neglected in silence and darkness.
I let out a seemingly inexorable, Factious laugh.
How on earth did i get here?
Trapped in a snug, haggard room- could I even call it a room? -with nobody, nothing but my slowly dying breath and a knife penetrating my side.
Something tells me I'm in for a long night.
~Eris ~
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Descriptive boldness
Poetryhere's where the question 'is she ok?' comes into play. see here a little collection of all the descriptions and mini-stories i write in my free time as well as in school. enjoyyyyy. Eris xx
