My eyes come to a close
and my days follow.
The sky turns from blue
to black
and I wonder
where the sun went.
All the clouds
go to my head,
heavy with rain
that drips from my eyes.
My blood is made
of a cold breeze,
and I strike
my lightning veins.
I want nothing more
than to sleep
and watch the stars
burn.
the chaos before a storm
YOU ARE READING
Titles are Overrated
PoetryThis is the equivalent of Notes app on your phone, so yeah, exposing myself. I guess it's considered poetry. Enjoy. :)
