I find myself holding on to shards of broken glass, reflecting empty eyes and bleeding lips.
I hold on so tightly that my hands leak black oily blood, and drip onto the pristine white carpet until I am surrounded by stained rug and rusty nails mixed with glass blades.
So I fall to the ground and curl up in a pain shaped lump, drowning my fingertips in blue eye water and mascara.
Through my blurred eyelids, I watch as a winged figure descends to my shaking body, and gently lifts me into oblivion.
BẠN ĐANG ĐỌC
Turquoise Sunsets
Thơ CaA collection of my poetry. Some of them I am actually quite proud of, some of them I just wanted to write. There are a bunch of different styles and topics, and I hope that you enjoy! I will probably update at least once a week if not more. Not all...
