he was living in dream, choking on his own self esteem. sliding down bathroom walls had stained his broken back a permanent color of beige and despair; he decided it's worth the tears and stained clothes he had gotten there.
there was a permanent frown resting on his opaque face, but every time he smiled; he looked as if he could drown on self deflect.
his remaining grace had slithered out his mouth and from the corners of his eyes. he had coal like paint smeared on his arms in shapes of snakes. maybe they'll help dig him a grave.
his heart had jumped out his chest, ribs breaking and crumbling under the touch. he couldn't think when others were around, at least, not much.
his eyes had faded to a magnetic grey, gaze always flicked on a shattering brain. the bathroom paint had sunk through the back of his sweatshirt, marking his back, but he didn't care about anymore stains.
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POETRY
Poetrya lot of poems i spend my free time writing, xoxo. (lowercase intended) ©raining-
