Her mind is opening and spilling its contents.
Splashing itself on a canvas,
And trying to be understood.
Her mind is quite a decaying maze,
With lies and truths weaved into it's walls.
Her heart, is beating fast and hard.
Pumping nothing
into and empty chest.
Her legs are trying pointlessly to run while standing still.
Desperate to free herself from time.
She is pointless.
Existing with no purpose.
I tell her not to be a hero,
For there is nothing left to save.
YOU ARE READING
About My Puppet ams of Sg.
PoetryIts my collection of poetry, some old some new. I doubt it will help you. This isn't for the faint of heart
