her body has become bones,
the nights are filled with groans.
her mind has turned black,
there's no going back.
the words were never true,
but she never knew.
her wrists are stained a cherry red,
and now she's dead.
YOU ARE READING
Out There
PoetryPoems from my mind, which is out there scattered in the galaxy. This book will tend to be off, but that's ok.
