[Written on 11th October 2017]
•••
they never tell you, do they?
about how Icarus enjoyed flying too close to the sun
they never tell you it wasn't an accident
that he found exhilaration in what he'd done
you'll never hear them say
that little Red sought out the wolf herself
they'll tell you the poor girl was hunted
as if there wasn't a part of her that craved for a taste of hell
they'd also never tell you
how love is good, how love is pure
they'd rather have you believe it weighs far too much
that its not the people, but the emotion you need to fear
Because there always has to be
something else, just anything else to blame
an outer force, something uncontrollable
something so far out of reach and impossible to tame
No, Icarus couldn't have been that reckless
no, Red couldn't have had a devil's bone in her
And people don't have it in them to be monsters
they'll see what they want to see, and hear what they need to hear
as if our hands can't rip hearts out
as if our tongues don't shatter dreams
as if our hearts are invincible to hate
and our souls are untouched and clean
they'll never tell you
that some boys like playing with fire
that little girls want to get lost in the wild
and that sometimes humans prefer hate and ire
so shut your eyes and seal your lips
and nod your head to what they say
be obedient, or you'll be killed
who cares about the truth if you get to live another day
▂▂▂▂▂ℓα∂уℓιтєяαℓ▂▂▂▂▂
YOU ARE READING
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐒𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 ✓
Poesíabecause sometimes words are like paint splatters; messy, chaotic and leaving their imprint on any canvas they come in contact with. but also full of life and colour, and just like a masterpiece, is capable of being interpreted in 7 billion differen...
