Why were her eyes lifeless?
She was a dancer
A slave to the music
Where were her once graceful facade?
Her hair tangling with the wind
Her eyes were crystals, her pure colors shining under the spotlight
Where is she?
Is she that same girl?
Everyone wonders
And so did she
"Ah.. and so I perish." She whispered.
Head spinning, she fumbled with her fingers, pursed her lips, and tried to stop her cries
Her head felt heavy to try and look at the stage lights above her
Her shoulders weighed the notes instead to sway with it
Her legs felt sore from running away to do the waltz
What would she do?
She needed a new rhythm
A getaway to dance to
But she was caged by the people watching her on stage
Blinded, she didn't know where to go
She just wanted the lights to break or burn her on stage
How could she dance when she's tired?
Please give her a rest
Mentally, she meant.
A dancer cannot dance
Without a peace of mind
And an open field.
-Butter
YOU ARE READING
Miss Haze
Poetry" ѕhє σncє ѕαíd ѕhє wαѕ thє σcєαn. вut αѕ ѕhє dívєd ín, ѕhє wαѕ ín α ѕtαtє σf cσnfuѕíσn " She was Miss Blue ✳️ ☁️ Miss Haze, is she //poetry series//a story of hazy thoughts and poems Started: 10/03/19 Published: 10/20/19 ♦ [ Update: Tryi...
