polaroid
blue hues
shudder in the midst
of a heart as fast paced
and broken as yours.
grey shades
glow in the knowledge
that when this world ends
you will still stand.
your soul is made of ink,
smudging and changing colors
like an undeveloped polaroid.
better in picture
with a permanently
unfilled void.
your heart is made of led,
poisonous yet being used.
like a pencil barely able to
write anymore,
thrown across the room,
picked up by a stranger.
synthetic voices fill your head.
are you going insane?
or are you already gone?
YOU ARE READING
11/10 poetry
Puisihi. here are some poems. take them they are my children they get better as they go, trust me. i'd just read the newer ones if i were you
