metaphors, they lie
we are made to believe there is meaning
beneath every symbol we try
to decipher—
the door is red, it expresses anger
I wore the red but I am empty
as I try to grasp the reality
I am alone and bathed in shame
flicking switches on and off
in the bathroom
soaking blood-stained sheets
blood is death
death is rather colorless—
a starless sky
a vacuum.
Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 2:48 AM UTC
metaphors, they lie
we are made to believe there is meaning
beneath every symbol we try
to decipher—
the door is red, it expresses anger
I wore the red but I am empty
as I try to grasp the reality
I am alone and bathed in shame
flicking switches on and off
in the bathroom
soaking blood-stained sheets
blood is death
death is rather colorless—
a starless sky
a vacuum.
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