NYCTOPHILIA - written by somebody whose writing should be spread across the world for all to indulge in... it's THAT good
-~•~-
As the sun rested,
It grew dark.
Chirping birds rested,
She could no longer hear the lark.
The waves kissed her toes,
Yet, behind her, loomed the shadows of her woes.
The waves caressed her feet,
The cuts on her body so clean, so neat.
They sting from the saltwater,
But to her it felt deserving.
She could worry about it later,
No, she didn't find the silence unnerving.
Yeah, she was used to it.
For quite a few days,
It would hurt, sting, pain.
Maybe that's the price one pays,
For cuts others have slain.
She just couldn't care;
She was lonely, all alone.
As she drifted into a trance, but rare.
As the clocks struck four,
She heard the waves roar.
As her mind wandered from painful memories to numb moments;
"The dark knows all my secrets."
She said in a light whisper,
As she faded into an empty slumber.
YOU ARE READING
Jump
PoetryCold. Warm. Dark. Light. There's no difference when all you feel is numb; that's all I ever feel. The physical pain isn't pain anymore, it's relief. It's the words that hurt - only the words. But what happens when you want to use that blade...
