I was on the birth of my own madness.
Words falling off me
as a reptilian loses
its second skin.
My eyes in a wild frenzy
for some incentive,
tongue bare for tasteful words.
My pen
became dull
with words I sought
and never found.
My fruitless
dreams
seemed not too fancy of me,
by leaving me flustered, taunting:
"because I said so."
⚛︎⚛︎⚛︎
I am literally blank
YOU ARE READING
{ 光 } ━ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝟣𝟩𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋 ( fin )
Poesíashe had hoped to know who she was when blowing out her seventeen candles Ⓒ 2017, shoobari. All Rights Reserved sigh, ok : #26 [ 06 | 29 | 17 ]