I am painting a picture.
I am painting a picture of me,
in a forest, weaving in and out
of evergreens.
I am running.
I am running away from my dreams;
There are mountains far away that no one can see,
but me.
I get down on my knees.
My feet dig deep into the soil while
my eyes grip beautiful bounties.
I pounce through soil on all fours
and suddenly,
I am a higher being.
Brambles that blemished yesterday can no longer
touch a soul like mine
that still aches from past altercations.
Never will I see him again.
Sleeping sporadically,
playing make-believe across two beds;
when the world wilted him;
he pillow-forted his safety until his
safety was no longer a palace in his head.
Just the remnants of a crawlspace
crumbling through his hands.
Forecast: 26% Chance of Rain
YOU ARE READING
It's Raining Outside
Poetry[Completed] 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃. I don't know how else to say this, but... 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝𝐬; 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧�...
