Mascara clogged eyelashes
Filter the wind,
Catching Autumn's fallen leaves
Before they can mingle
With my unshed tears -
Winter is almost upon us,
Her frosty nails carving fleurs des lis
On the nighttime window panes
Yet what little difference it makes for me -
I still don my painted mask each day,
Pretending I don't feel time slipping
Through my fingers like ocean sand,
Seasons turning into pages
In an ever-shortening book.
YOU ARE READING
T e l e s c o p i c | COMPLETED
PoetryWhat is it I see Through these wavering glass spheres? Foreign tongues written far off in the heavens, Feelings incarnate, Scrawled across the bottomless sky For the seraphs and me alone to read. ~~~~~~~~~~ HIGHEST RANK: #257 (8/28/16) Vote if you e...
