Salt tears, and a
sugar red,
mix with crystals,
falling from the skies ahead.
To stand in the stream,
and wash the blood away,
out in the street,
where the cars can't see my way.
Hair drenched,
clothes that stick.
Shivering skin,
covered in pin-pricks.
The dark above,
the moon covered up.
The threatening clouds,
and a light dust.
No, a pour.
The rain falls.
And bounces off metal walls.
The plinking sounds
through the blue-black tinted neighborhood.
And car lights
suddenly appear.
The plinking stops.
It comes to a halt.
My ears drown
in the crystals from the sky.
And I fall over, with a smile,
as the car door opens in front of me,
and someone rushes over.
A jolt.
A smile still present.
I wake from the sudden daydream.
And find myself longing,
that it was real.
YOU ARE READING
Nobody Was Meant to See
Poetry[Trigger Warning, please be safe when reading] They aren't supposed to know. They aren't meant to read these poems that I'm writing. I've concealed them for a reason. -Shitty poems about how I feel-
