she was there,
standing on her own two feet,
with a paintbrush gently hanging on the edge of her reddish lips.
you could still taste the strawberries on her tongue,
half of the cheesecake laid on a table while she watched the world spin.
she never wanted to be like that,
awfully surrounded by her loneliness,
brutally turning her dreams into nightmares,
wishing to be alive in the death scene people called life.
she wished she would have seen the heaven in her eyes and not the hell of what she was going through.
she wished she would have seen the world a little bit from his perspective,
a little bit as she was the wall and not the shadow which would disappear as soon as the cloud faded
