Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Floating Darkness

Sometimes she felt in despair,
sometimes she moaned under her pillow to herself
sometimes the chances were bleak of her being complete
but she strived,

She tried to a point where she could tap a notch of her soul
And be back to the point where it all started.

Sometimes she felt that she could conquer the fears
sometimes she felt that it wouldn't be suffice
sometimes she broke the nib of red pens

Because that is the color she wore the most in her eyes.

Sometimes she speculated the obvious apprehension
sometimes she would shape the clay in her form of "love"
sometimes the glass was shattered to bits, not begging to be fixed.

Perhaps the glass was her clutched veins.

Sometimes she felt that she should leave,
sometimes it happened, that she left it all
sometimes the conclusion was to never return

Maybe it was all fabricated.

The expressions
The Light
The Care

Which were never actually constructed.

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