Her eyes are crying again.
Blue orbs filled with questions.
Why? How?
Never answered.
Her makeup is running away,
perhaps insulted at the sudden flow of emotions.
She wipes her face but her efforts to dry her cheeks are in vain, for the sadness keeps streaming out.
She closes the windows and is met by darkness.
The dread melts away.
Perhaps that's where she should be.
Blind.
YOU ARE READING
My Therapy Poetry
Poetry(Some poems may be triggering, but I post a trigger warning.) All poems are written by me. Message me for permission of use please.
