It's like a zipper I can't find.
Holding the weight of all my problems within its silver teeth, It will finish me.
It won't stop the cold, it cant stop the rain that washes over me.
My zipper is stuck within the folds of my heart, and is ripping off the skin.
The red parade of my fans fill the whites of my eyes with light blue memories, that weren't dried by moonlight.
The sun never again will see my face. A pale ghost of my very own past, is now just a damaged reflection of my future.
YOU ARE READING
Poems: Gade 12- Present Day
PoetryFrom another guy in the world, to you. Words that aren't spoken, but remain true. I hope you find comfort in my poetry too. A rusted connection to my reality, because honestly. I've lost it.
