My mind a jumble of fragments whisked away.
Depth has a place somewhere but only breaks the surface
In the middle of the night.
My eyes are mirrors
Reflecting only what people want to see. They never spill but are always full
To the brim.
My hair is a stereotype. Apparently I have no soul.
My ears hear only what they want to.
Little whispers of secrets chirping out of a bird's beak.
The leaves murmuring the scary things they have seen.
My mouth a picture of happiness.
I attempt to use for kindness. It is dirty with the unused words that could have been.
The ones that don't insult but notice. The ones let loose in dreams at night and day.
My arms sway in the wind like trees. They clutch books and throw softballs.
They point towards the sky at stars and clutch the dirt in the hardest of times.
My legs take me places my brain doesn't register.
Their choices decide my destiny.
Carry me around to places I wish I knew and I
will get to know.
YOU ARE READING
Poems in the dark of night
ŞiirPoems that I can't express to anyone through words spoken, so I put them on paper. Words that explain hardships and times I can't sleep because of these thought roaming through my brain.
