Watching silently from across the room,
Pale skin glowing in the light of the moon.
Known by face, not by names,
All 13 of my sisters are fair dames.
I'm so ashamed of Theresa,
Of me, Theresa.
Gray eyes are bloodshot
And I'm crying; life isn't what I thought.
My blood is red,
My thoughts are disheveled like a messy bed.
I'm so ashamed of Theresa,
Of me, Theresa.
All of my sisters tell me I'm wrong,
After hearing my pick of song.
The oldest girl, she took my glasses from me,
Everything is now different, I see.
I'm so ashamed of Theresa,
Of me, Theresa.
I like the color black,
My friend stabbed me in the back.
I wore red today,
My family treats me like a flea-ridden stray
I'm so ashamed of Theresa,
Of me, Theresa.
My reflection is the only thing I'm afraid of,
That, oh, and love.
Inside my chest is empty as a black hole,
You can reach inside; over my heart is a hole.
And I'm so ashamed of Theresa,
Of me, Theresa.
YOU ARE READING
Screaming Through Oblivion
Poetry"Hell is other people." ~Jean-Paul Sartre. Always expect the worst- it eliminates disappointment. An odd collection of mostly depressing poetry, because I'm a depressed and depressing person.
