A/N: I'm supposed to be doing homework on Atlantic Communities but...
We live in this world, with beautiful eyes and torn out hearts.
Our blood red strings entangle, intricate and true.
We fight our wars, we take our peace.
Our smiles are pure, our mind still clean.
Splotches of rot, of red, of darkness.
Could you keep this up? You're just a mess.
You cry for hope, you preach of dreams,
But it's the fairytales with a happy ending.
Cast away, body broke, the voices still knock-knock-knocking on your door.
You cry in pain, you cry in relief,
When the red-red strings fall around your feet.
Neck bare, hands empty.
YOU ARE READING
Thinking About Random Stuff
AcakI just want to write. It's a mess. I like writing. Poetry I guess, who really knows what monster I've created. Deep thoughts and sometimes me trolling myself. Fun.
