She was running
The mist hid her face
The only thing visible
Was her pink hair
Bouncing with every step
She cursed herself for making that decision
Dying her hair the night before
She heard footsteps all around her
But she knew which ones were real
There was a man
Chasing after
His knife dripping
After slaughtering others
She was determined
To keep her blood off of that blade
Her boots were easy to run in
But the cold air ripped at her lungs
Her breath leaving clouds
She tripped
And fell
Into a rosebush
Pricking her bare flesh
Red beaded as she ran
She made her way
Out of the wood
And never saw the man
Again
Oct 18, 2019
Oct 18, 2019 at 8:00 PM UTC
She was running
The mist hid her face
The only thing visible
Was her pink hair
Bouncing with every step
She cursed herself for making that decision
Dying her hair the night before
She heard footsteps all around her
But she knew which ones were real
There was a man
Chasing after
His knife dripping
After slaughtering others
She was determined
To keep her blood off of that blade
Her boots were easy to run in
But the cold air ripped at her lungs
Her breath leaving clouds
She tripped
And fell
Into a rosebush
Pricking her bare flesh
Red beaded as she ran
She made her way
Out of the wood
And never saw the man
Again
Request permission to use this poem