I'm colorblind. If only my friends could rip my lips and detach my hands, they would have been partying now in freedom from me talking about you.
I'm colorblind. Your vibrant reds become green in my eyes the moment you utter a word. Your voice resembled those of sirens. You spin me into confusion and doubt, then laugh with your sweet cruelty.
I'm colorblind, not imbecile. Your trancing tricks have no effect; I'm awake. Unbind me with your shackles of lies and poison. Attempt not to pull me back. I've had enough.
YOU ARE READING
Letters To Nimbus
Poetry[ a poetry collection about breaking and forgiving. ] He admired her so much that the light she emits blinded his eyes, and all he has vanished to oblivion. A mistake he failed to avoid. She saw him turned into something else; it was mournful. To pr...
