Red sand slips through the chasms of my fingers.
Look at how much red there is, look how much red I spilled.
I laugh and laugh and a sense of insanity lingers.
The yellow and looks pretty and filled
Of color and wonder!
Whose soul should I steal,
Whose body shall I plunder?
Who will be my desires next meal?
I pick you, my dear.
I don't care how bitter or sweet you may be,
It's the fear.
The tantalizing feeling is the key,
To my happiness and your doom.
Ah, how I look forward, blessing the sand with your cherry red juice.
YOU ARE READING
Shorts, Thoughts, and All That Good Stuff
PoetryAll my short stories and poems will go here from now on because I'm too lazy to make a cover for each one I post. I hope you enjoy my poems, stories, and thoughts as much as I love writing them. Original Picture: Just Print by MAMPrint (sxc.hu)
