my hair is the burning ember of the forest fire,
wisps at the ends, and sweet promises uttered in silence.
i am the voice in your head, when you plunge your head into the water,
the ocean soothes your body but my words cause panic.
perhaps i am not as angelic as she may have thought i am,
perhaps i am the demon that lurks underneath the good days.
maybe one day, i will carve the dark out of me,
and burn this decaying wood, for it should be time for a new leaf.
alas, here i am, rotting in this cocoon i call my personality,
with my silver tongue, and hooded eyes, sleep deprivation is my grasp at sanity.
i wish i were a better person, i wish i were more things than i am now,
i wish i were not so distracted so easily, i wish i wasn't a disappointment.
except, those are hopeless wishes, and i'm a hopeless fanatic,
please let go of me, i am not worth it, i am but enigmatic.
- my silver tongue
YOU ARE READING
growing wings | Completed
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