While she waited,
Her eyes drained of joy,
Heart drenched with tears,
She looked pale.
The crescent moon up there
Never became full,
Neither did it hide for a new one.
The clouds played with the crescent.
Blood red moon,
Shot up high there -
None cared,
She stood underneath, feet bare.
The dawn embraced the horizon,
The sun peeked through.
The dusk drawled in,
Twilight to crescent moon.
Her wrist slit open,
The grass didn't drench in blood.
The paler she got,
The stiffer got her body.
Drip, drip, drip; went dripping.
Witnessed the horizon, the moon;
The dawn had a taste, the sun did too
Of her invisible vermilion.
- Zayana Cullen
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Silent Whispers of Dysphoria
PoetryWhen mirror is not enough to reflect emotions, when talks are not enough to convey feelings, a silent poem and a pen and it's creations may help. Edit (April 14, 2020) : This book was previously titled as "Autumn Leaves" *NOTE FOR READERS* Dear rea...
