When he met her she was dreaming of faces,
Far away people from far away places.
Fiddling a cigarette, silently she'll sing.
An absent fingernail traces the scars that sting.
She's as pretty as a postcard,
As in, she's long gone.
She will light up the world,
By burning it to the ground.
She's a runaway, of a unique kind
Her feet don't have to move, only her mind.
When she met him, He was falling.
He'd won the wrong heart, promptly dropped it.
Shying away from his own tower walls,
The old pale scabs, bleeding all at once.
She's as crazy as a train,
Her presence will hit you like one.
She won't catch you when you fall,
But join you on the way down.
She's a runaway, of a unique kind,
You won't move an inch, but you'll be chasing behind.
YOU ARE READING
At The Corner Of My Eye
PoetryMore poetry involving myself, my friends, my anime and my incredible addiction to the aforementioned 2. A few rants. My second compilation. To everyone who viewed voted and commented on my first work, A Left Brain, a MASSIVE HERCULEAN THANK YOU...
