Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2017
the ringing sound we hear
when everything was silent
became her music

the red spot we see
when everything was pitched black
became the only color she sees

she lived in a world
where nothingness
was everything that surrounded her

she lived in a way
we all called as dying
Written by
-
156
   Kelsey Lauren, ES and shrumeling
Please log in to view and add comments on poems