Clouds fill her eyes
Fogging them up
And they keep building
And growing
Until her eyes look swollen
And the clouds start pouring
Water out of her face
And she isn't crying
Its the clouds.
They're the reason
Liquid crystals
Pour from her face.
The reason her mascara runs
And leaves a trail that's as dark as the lethe.
These clouds aren't real
But if she believes it strong enough
She dives into the lethe
And forgets her problems
And its no longer a lie
YOU ARE READING
Aesthetic Writings
PoetryJust aesthetic writings of all kinds. Inspired by aesthetics.
