A storm.

She is a storm,Walks the streets every cold and foggy night,

When she feels nothingness and numbness

and sings to the ghosts that dance along with her blue song,

With no music around but her silent screams

 and echoes of her trembling soul,

Moles on her skin, scars dreaming of being healed,

On the ground, she lays

counts the stars and paints her body all red, 

Heavy metals, beating shadows

Sins and good deeds

She burns those bridges, she once built with her untold poems, 

As always, 

she carries such a great weight of burdens on her small shoulders, to the edge of her lost destination 

yet every road, she crosses, takes her back to where everything began, 

where she lost every little part of her that hurt nobody but her damn self. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s