Sad and happy used to mean the same thing to me,
But when you stood there with your hard shell cracked and opened,
I peered through and you showed me why yellow is a happy colour.
I'll paint it on my palms, lips, eyes and throat so you can see I'm happy.
Sad and happy are two completely different things to you,
So I stood before you and opened my hard shell.
You peered through and saw pain and sadness,
It was black.
Not just black but so dark that even looking at it made your souls scream in fear,
You painted blood red and ichor black on your palms, lips, eyes and throat;
So I could see you understood.
-JRR
YOU ARE READING
Dying Song (poetry)
Poetryjust some stuff I made. !TW! Contains vague talk of SH, suicide, ED and general mental illness. -JRR
