Fire in her eyes,
And blood in her hands.
She looked at me in stark horror,
And I let myself be caught in the terror.
I cursed, screamed and cried out loud,
Wondering what did I find in the crowd.
My teenage self was sitting in the corner,
While I was busy burning my skin in the heater.
I vexed at myself in the pitch black madness,
And let the vicious void consume me in its darkness.
For once, I let myself breathe in that destruction,
And wondered how was it to burn in its cadence?
I hoped for it to scathe every inch of my skin,
Cause I certainly didn't deserve any kin.
I felt like I was a very terrible person,
Until I met my teenage girl in prison.
I asked her what she did,
And I didn't even care to listen a bit.
I was too busy breaking the vases,
I couldn't watch even a bit of the scratches.
I wondered how she allowed people to walk all over,
When they didn't leave behind as much as a flower?
The rage's gone, the tides are slow,
Row, row, away with the flow.
- sarah
Thanks for stopping by,
Saramitra
YOU ARE READING
Journey to the Depth of my Soul ✓
Poetry❝you've been broken for long, come, let me heal you again❞ the darkest valleys of soul have been broken for long. let's burn our inner flames again, soaring so high, it makes the stars smile again. let the journey begin. bon voyage. ✦•··············...
