I sleep with a face bare; it is though that remains subtle
No layers
One complexion
Maybe imperfect;
studded with voids
scars never healed
blemishes never recovered
imperfections never perfected
with a broken heart never mended.
I read all about it;
I prepare myself for what I sign up for
The song that I wrote, no one'll hear it
My light beneath the shadow is so hollow.
It's battle born
When your flesh and bone is what your consistence defines
We're all running out of time
This shield that we are under is beyond our misery
Isolation is our best friend
Solitude is our parent
Vengeance is our guardian;
The human mind is an atomic bomb–
that is ready to explode in any second that comes to its alert
A mind
A shining armor...
A runaway.
But the first thing that comes to my mind when I wipe my makeup off at night
Is that
It may be the last time I sleep,
Last time I attempt to put effort into myself
Last time I decide to run my fingertips along my skin
Will it be the way it was before?
New, improved, barren?
I just remembered driving
Across the shimmering lake
That reflected my pearl brown eyes
Those golden nights
There was a paradise hidden behind the filth; dug deep beneath the dust
In the wind
In my love
In my life.
When I take my makeup off at night
I know
That
It will be the last time.
I am not preparing for a good night's rest
I am not preparing to pamper myself for the evening
I am preparing myself for my life to be taken away from me.
YOU ARE READING
Mellifluous Murmurs
Poesía❁ Freedom is allowing the crisp air to guide you through this forest we can call society. ❁