Part I
She is breather
painting words on empty space
She is heartbeat
those are the tints that She uses
She is here
creating Her own existence
you are nothing
you are demon
you are god
it doesn't matter
She doesn't care
you aren't here
She doesn't cry
crying means that someone has hurt you
She doesn't have anyone
She knows all Her own punch lines
She doesn't laugh
because the joke was always you
you are nothing
you are demon
you are god
it doesn't matter
She doesn't care
She is mind
She is god
She is demon
it doesn't matter
She doesn't care
you aren't happy
happiness is something you feel
you aren't feeling
sadness is when you lose something
you aren't losing
because nothing never had
She is mind
She is god
She is demon
it doesn't matter
She is here
you are hurt
the pain you feel cannot exist
you are happy
that smile of yours was never true
you are nothing
and nothing She can lose
She exists
She is here
She is breather
She is painter
She was mind
You were heartbeat
but she never cared
Part II
She will let you kiss her,
if you ask her politely
her lips are soft and intoxicating
She will let you hold her,
if you want to
you love the feel of her skin
She will let you speak,
if you whisper love to her
every night before you fall asleep
She will let you marry her
if you take out that small box
hidden with secrets, love, and a future
She will let you hold her hand
growing old together
grey hair, grey skin, grey skies
She'll let you
because to her
you don't exist
YOU ARE READING
The Mourning Times
RandomThis is a collection of short stories, poetry, and sayings that are particularly meaningless unless you read them. So please do
