AN: I know this isn't exactly poetry more just my writing but it fits with my poems so here it is...
Call Me Crazy
White lights. White seats. White walls. White shoes squeaking against the white floor as they walk. I don't get why they use white. White is the worst. People are always trying to mix it with other things to make them lighter, but no matter how much white you add you will still be able to see the true colour that you were trying to hide. On these stupid white floors you can see every little mark made by the stupid squeaky white shoes because no matter how hard they try, everything leaves its mark. The white floors don't lighten the mark or make it less noticeable. The white of the floors illuminates the dark marks surrounding them with a contrast that just makes them seem even darker. I don't get why they use white. It doesn't seep inside you and lighten the darkness, it just emphasizes what's already there, making you feel alone inside this pristine temple, washed of all its colour.
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My Heart's Prison
PoesieThis is a collection of poems from a harder time in my life. They are not exactly joyful and have many subjects that people try not to broach frequently. These are very personal, but I hope that other people out there can relate. Thank you for readi...
