i was told i have brown eyes, because black holes don't exist in that size.
caramel, cadbury, coffee, mahogany - the sun melts before your eyes and you just exist, like a museum dipped in shades of gold sprinkles and honey.
but what would you know of darkness? the kind where you consume the sun and never photosynthesize? you don't mother a thing, because that's not what a witch is supposed to do anyway. nothing grows in the barren graveyard where photons are deep buried.
abysmal voids, where the nightmares lurk. they were too heavy or so i thought. but now they are rising up to the surface. he adds ten pounds to my heart as i sink in the void where the demons become my reality.
i was told i have brown eyes, but i've stained it with ink and bloodied bones. a thousand screaming ravens trapped inside my pupil, murder in my gaze, dark matter in my tears...
brown eyes. i was told i have brown eyes. but brown eyes don't have a mirror of sinisterness facing their soul. this summer solstice unleashes the beast inside, and all i smell is:
burnt poetry and charred flesh.
he leaves half eaten carcasses of my grief. the grief that my heart birthed on a dead endless night.
it was fresh grief that gave me brown eyes -
fear and agony turned them into midnight.
i was told everything that's not me, is my birthright.
YOU ARE READING
thoughts from inside a galaxy, or a speck of dust
Poetrystupid thoughts from inside my notes app. i've been writing in my notes app and random notebooks since i was 14. most of them don't have titles, so i'll put the date they were written instead.
