Navy blue tip of the brushstroke cleansed my eyelids of a black miscelleny Of eyeliner, mascara and heavy black pain hidden behind. Whatever in the world it takes to be a woman Standing upon a pair of daggers dipping in your feet, your pretty feet And producing a rose red, sun bright smile to all who wish for your downfall. I realised it was night, long hours of pretence for sleep. ****** burden Recalling my woes, buried in my head, in my throat, to life. Now sore and deep! There is more than sufficient oxygen in the air, yet I can't breathe. I'm tracking every star that might fortell a happy fate. Whereas it fades and leaves me to my own certain doom. Whatever in the world it takes to be a woman. To wipe away your own tears at night. And fall back to sleep.
Just feeling utterly down these days. But here is a poem