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HESTIA.
just dancing in reverie, your feet delicate swirls upon the ground / poisonous thoughts leaking into your mind, are you good enough are you good enough are you good enough / and suddenly it's a flood and where there used to be a fire there's now ash / wood was never infinite / why couldn't it be infinite?
biting your bottom lip until it's slicked with saliva and blood, you want to wipe it away, you don't / you can't find yourself to care / spitty red bubbles trickle down your chin / this wasn't supposed to happen / none of this was supposed to happen / it happened.
so you now sit there, curled under yellow covers as your raw eyes stare into the nothingness for the bright room / you think of setting it on fire / you're so cold / the room was supposed to be happy, make you happy, now there emptyness inside your chest / and anger / anger at how attention seeking you seemed, people found the other broken ones, and yet, here you sit, bruised, numb, and nobody enters the room / the anger fizzles / did anybody actually care, or did they forget, again?
now you're singing to yourself, a low hum vibrating in your throat as scarred lips with saliva-blood tremble to form words / people are puppets strung along to believe in / your voice dies out / sometimes you just want to cut out your voice box so that no one is succumbed to the cracked words you utter / and then, cue defying thoughts, is your voice really that bad?
whatever / don't think / think too much / the yellow room is dying with the sun / maybe you should have set it alight / just so it could burn a bit longer / the sunny daises that glowed under your chin have wilted, you never knew that it was possible for them to rot away, they were like a something that couldn't simply just leave / you die with the sun.
