In my field of paper flowers I die a silent death. Nothing but the quiet rattling of crumpled paper underneath. Red upon pure white fields drying to a dark sunset. Never living flowers soaking up the liquid essence of the long dead lonely girl. Not a soul to venture looking for what has been lost. Never a thought shed for the life that dripped from open veins. Paint a beautiful picture of red and white while no one gazes long enough to wonder about the long lost lonely girl.
*Original of Chesshire Spades*
YOU ARE READING
The Darkened State
PuisiA bunch of poems and random writings that I found in a bunch of old journals. Some of these are new, however. The title is called The Darkened State for a reason. This is due to most of them being depressing or twisted while I was in The Darkened St...