Loneliness plops in my soul
like the daylight rain.
With a light of hope
hanging majestically under my heart.
My hand are nippy,
covered with ink and filthy red marks.
The whispers still echo in those domestic vistibules,
rumpling me under million ounces of guilt.
The spirits come and hum soft words to me, filling
my mind with deceitful lies.
The creeps glissade me
in sentences
aimed by their ugly tongues.
Making hope grow down
my maneuvers.
-Khushi