Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Her legs dangle off dusty chairs,
Memories crawling up her toes,
Twirling in hickory hair.
Her lips of cherry remain sewn,
Silent before the two spirits,
Deadened in brown irises.
'I reside in a broken home,'
she says,
and stares into the wall of hypnotic abyss.
Laughter's a potent disease and a haunting reality,
between the pair of spirits she despises.
'So, silence is my only destiny?'
Amused, 'my hate grows higher for them.'
Angry, 'my rage burns hotter for them.'
She coils away from the spirits condemned.
'I reside in a broken home,'
she repeats,
yet the glass house won't hear her pleas.
Her heart brews colder songs
Panic creeping up her chest,
Fright taking over the rest,
Resentment festers...
'Do you want them to feel despair?'
Why would she when emptiness is a much sweeter affair?
Desolation spreads...
'Are you happy in their dread?'
Does the choice even lay in her hand?
'I reside in a broken home,'
she bleats,
a foundation shattered from beneath.
Darkness takes its place here,
A poisonous mist she must bear.
Light takes its necessary leave,
A glint of moonlight she grieves.
Displaced from the world she once knew,
I'm tempted to ask,
'So, where are you now?'
'I reside in a broken home,'
Miserably alive in a broken home,
Barely passing by in a broken home,
'And soon, I hope to die in this broken home.'
-Grisha. S
YOU ARE READING
DROPS OF SCARLET
PoetryFeatured on @WattpadPoetry reading list 'Stygian Skies' "I dream as a soulless spirit where the only music I hear is the drops of scarlet" This poetry collection follows the tales of three women lost in the past and objects they surround themselves...
