Black is the scarf
I wrap around my head
To hide my untamed
Twist ended braids,
Black is the tissue
I use to wipe the makeup
Off my face,
Revealing the frown
For my sight is now bear.
Black is the hands
I move to hug the monsters
Under my bed
And embrace the voices in
My head,
Black is the mascara
That washes down my cheeks,
Staining a line shade
Over my dimples.
Now I'm starting to get scared.
Black is the beauty
That fills the tub,
I'm drowning in and stiffen
My body to slumber,
Helping me forget about the
Naked smile I've
Been wearing,
Black is the color of my heart
Now that it's broken
Or started tearing from the
Start,causing the
Veins linked to it to Slowly
Fall apart.
Black is the wine
I drink and the ashes to the cigarette
I smoke,
When the demons of
Hells darkness
Guests my place to dine,
BLACK IS THE
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MAN THAT
TORE THE PAGE,
I USED TO WRITE THIS POEM.
YOU ARE READING
THE WRITE PILL TO LOVE
Storie d'amoreThis book consists of 39 poems which capture the essence and rocky roots of love. This is my first time coming up with these pieces so let me know what you think.
