Inside my head
Ring the hollow words
Uttered time and again
As predictable as one season seamlessly
Folding into the next
The same level of meaning
Lacking behind each appearance
Of every generic line
Not a shred of truth
Or hope
Finds a home in your vocabulary
Instead your words are coated
In self-absorbance
Doused in irresponsibility
And topped with a lack
Of a conscious
Sharp as a blade
Every word in your rehearsed arsenal
Cuts me deeper
Until there remains no blood
To drain from my tender skin
As the color in my complexion
Wanes into an ashen hue
Leaching the vibrancy
From my ocean toned eyes
Stealing the glimmer from my iris
Leaving behind nothing but an empty shell
A broken doll
Adrift in a crimson pool
Of your creation
YOU ARE READING
Black Box
PoesíaInside you will find a collection of poems that I hope will help you find some sense of peace. If you like what you read and want more you can follow my Tumblr @pale-rosewritings
