Shiver

Poison Form

    Darkness embraces land, sky, and earth—-nothing more burns within the quiet hearth.

     Slinking through the darkness with nothing on the mind but sorrow—-thee ponders nothing of tomorrow.

     Thy mirror pond showcases lies—-lies that unleash several cries.

     Looking forward to what stares back is enough to give one a heart-attack.

      Thee knows in thy heart—-despite never getting such a restart—-who they are meant to be.

      Thee knows in their mind who they are but physically achieving that seems so far… Far and far away, unable to see the day.

     The day of glory seems to never come… On and on the terror drums.

      Thy body wrong… Thy form is poison—-always letting the bitter noise in.

      The thoughts that scream loudly… The thoughts that are most deadly.

      But, alas, the day of joy… the day of receiving a better form never arrives. On and on the poison thoughts drive.

      So thee crouches down, urging their mind to not make a single sound.

      Wrapped countlessly in grim thoughts—-each of those floating around at a waltz.

      Thee cries on—-for what they don't and will never have…Of what life never gave.

      Thy heart shatters, time and time again—-flightless unlike the wren. Thee takes a deep breath, letting the darkness course through—-thy tears askew.

      Thee still has sorrow for what they'll never see—-and for what others claim they will never be.