Ghastly eyes
Stealing
Light from within the room.
Bawling a shape for its hanging
Bones.
Like wearing a coat
I wrap my self up with time
Borrowed from the coockoo nest's owner.
The mirror
Opens up the veil
Of falling out hair
To show a face like willows
Forever left to yearn
Quietly
By the river of Styx
For what has once
Grown happiness.
Now barren.
Split fingers
Daintily
Touch
The hollow echoes from inside my womb.
I am a woman
Or what was known as such
For I have too grown love.
YOU ARE READING
When angels fall
PoesíaA book of thoughts, pains and joys, served cold. No sugar to sweeten it up. i'm but a throbbing cluster of pain waiting longing to be released into nothingness
