One day, she moved to the white woods
In a cottage made of stones
She never liked the icy winters
Yet chills nestled in her bones
A million times she asked herself
Did they ever wonder where she went?
But people living on the other side,
Were wary of how time was spent
These days she felt a strange sickness
Was taking over her mind
Scratching and scathing her sanity;
Making her numb and blind
Dusk filled with nightmares
Horrors with long and sharp tongues
She gave all her fears a pair of hands
Now clutching at her lungs
If only she could start again,
And cover up these nasty stains
But the only paint she ever had
Was running through her veins.
-s.j
YOU ARE READING
Words & Spaces
Poésie~A collection of poems~ I dipped my fingertips in an ocean of words and painted the sky in the colours of my soul. See the world through my eyes. No themes or boundaries, just my thoughts.
