These paper cuts doesn't hurt now,
A slight slit over my numb skin,
And the red thing trying to flow out so soon.
This feeling, a déjà vu,
I do not remember how many times I've been through.
I escape the present. I do not live in the future either. Or the past.
There is other dimensions or galaxies trying to hide me, from who i am.
From what you see me.
I depart my soul my sight from you.
You blame me i change as quick.
I hate love and i love hate,
Oh i miss your love was such a façade, i agitate.
To this point i see,
No one as i walk down the street.
Familiar faces fades forever,
I am left with the crowd, unseen.
To the paper cuts now getting dark and deep,
I made myself so numb,
My mind taking me places with the faces unseen,
Soon they will too depart like all and none.
The paper cuts bleed and i still smile,
I see no reason for the sorrow or to be afraid,
I've been dying so you could cry and mourn,
But i see no one, how do i celebrate,
How do I celebrate...
YOU ARE READING
SANGUINE MELANCHOLY
Poetryi will think and think and think... tell me when to stop.
