Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Dawn is a good friend of mine While, day is just an acquaintance. A respite from my mind seems ideal, but that comes from setting my head ablaze. I wore the brightest shade of Hell on my lips, with a desire for Heaven under the eyes. Had the desire to be a good person so, from a young age- I began to hurt myself instead of other's. Mother once told me-- I'd put bandaids on the wounds of friends, but I'd let scrapes bleed, and drip down my ankle. Father told me I was a hard worker, I felt ten again. Meeting his compliment with a blush; he doesn't commend just anyone, but my fingertips in that instant- burned. Loved the sun as a girl, spent hours under it- now I can't stand the heat. Even when I had to make appointments for my father's love those days seemed longer, my skin younger. Found a way to love the sky I'm underneath; sky blue pill sertraline, and white cloud- abilify allow my brain to absorb sunlight once more. & they tell me of a God who loves me so, but my cheeks burn, as skin melts off the bone. And I was euphoric— a star that burns incessantly, taking up too much mass. Red giant that encompasses all, suffocating in the process, exploding. I want to be a good person, but I don't feel human at all. I'm rediscovering how to love living, just the same. Burning brightly, unapologetically, as a flawed being. With passion that makes smoke rise from my mind, and flames in my hair.
0
Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 11:18 AM UTC
The Girl With Flames In Her Hair
Dawn is a good friend of mine While, day is just an acquaintance. A respite from my mind seems ideal, but that comes from setting my head ablaze. I wore the brightest shade of Hell on my lips, with a desire for Heaven under the eyes. Had the desire to be a good person so, from a young age- I began to hurt myself instead of other's. Mother once told me-- I'd put bandaids on the wounds of friends, but I'd let scrapes bleed, and drip down my ankle. Father told me I was a hard worker, I felt ten again. Meeting his compliment with a blush; he doesn't commend just anyone, but my fingertips in that instant- burned. Loved the sun as a girl, spent hours under it- now I can't stand the heat. Even when I had to make appointments for my father's love those days seemed longer, my skin younger. Found a way to love the sky I'm underneath; sky blue pill sertraline, and white cloud- abilify allow my brain to absorb sunlight once more. & they tell me of a God who loves me so, but my cheeks burn, as skin melts off the bone. And I was euphoric— a star that burns incessantly, taking up too much mass. Red giant that encompasses all, suffocating in the process, exploding. I want to be a good person, but I don't feel human at all. I'm rediscovering how to love living, just the same. Burning brightly, unapologetically, as a flawed being. With passion that makes smoke rise from my mind, and flames in my hair.
nucherub
Written by
25/F/Iowa
Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 11:18 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem