Lungs run out of air
And it blows after me
Drafting in her hair
Until it gets freed
Shooting stars don't look back
Arms in the curl
I picked up what was put down
Marzipan Fingers and Marble Hands
I should've known it all along,
These thought don't add up to a song
Take a away a couple fractions of me
And that is that, we're moving on
Mind with me in my arms, rest in peace
Lie with me in the stars, off to sleep
A Cruel Master
Used to be who I used to think
Now I think, how I used to be
Time is what you make of it
Until you become what time makes of you
I took it out on myself and prayed,
That no one is still awake,
I'm not scared of myself anymore,
And that's scary
I'm scheduled for the rope when I close my eyes
Snakes in the sheets like The Fates on a leash,
I keep a white rose seed so I grow when I leave,
Thought you saw hope
but the eyes have blinds
It's green time, the neon in my eyes
I've got gravel in my teeth now.
YOU ARE READING
Migraine
PoetryI can't figure out what my head is doing. So I've started writing down every random thought I can remember. But that quickly divulged into short essays on random topics. Trying to be anon because these are personal thoughts. -Sonder
