She was blue, so gray and black.
A pair of hands ran down her shoulders without her noticing.
A light slowly penetrated into her thick skin.
It melted inside of her like a drop of water falling from the sky and crashing on to the sand.
She felt like someone or something finally had her back.
Turning around, she didn't find.
Turning around to see, who was there for her.
But all she could feel, was the wind.
Nobody but her.
And suddenly it hit her.
All this time the hands were hers.
All this time she has her own back.
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PoetryMy mind is like a poisoned apple. From a simple glance, everything seems fine. But once you taste it, it becomes a whole different story. . . . Highest Ranking: [#66 in Poetry]
