It's 3:00 am and she got the pastels she needs,
The blood represents the ink that's hidden beneath her bed.
What she's waiting now is the tub to be filled, the clear blue skies mixed with something red.
My darling at the center of the blurred skies, You're counting every seconds as the time flies.
You're watching everything that surrounds you be in completely white. Hang in there! The boy without wings tries to fly.
The cold wind penetrates her skin, she's stuck in that situation over and over again. And it's not the white clouds that's stopping her to flee nor the rain. But nothing matters since she was fully determined to be out of everybody's range.
So stop her before she'll die!
Meet with the death for her.
Steal the knife out of her sight,
Be that blood she'll use with the water in the tub. Swear, everything will be perfect in her eyes.
;🌻✍️LadyMonSTR
YOU ARE READING
Inside Thoughts
PoetryThere are words we failed to utter, Expressions we failed to express. I wrote them with pleasure in a paper; the feelings were not repressed. When we bleed inside, We look for a place to hide. A friend to count on like a paper and a pen; these are...
