Brittle nails
Scratching dry skin
Cold arms
Holds tiny frame
Crushing bones
Into dust
Dust turns to dreams
Dreams turn to nightmares
Nightmares turn to reality
And there is no escape
Transparent eyelids
Blink ever so slowly
Showcasing glossy eyes
Blue orbs
Empty blue orbs
Tiny frame
Becomes even tinier
Brittle nails
Become even more brittle
Dry skin
Becomes chapped
There never was anyone holding tiny frame
Tiny frame
Was holding
Herself.
- Danielle Pretorius
YOU ARE READING
Solid Abstraction
PoetryBrittle nails Scratching dry skin Cold arms Holds tiny frame Crushing bones Into dust Dust turns to dreams Dreams turn to nightmares Nightmares turn to reality And there is no escape Transparent eyelids Blink ever so slowly Showcasing glossy eyes...
