Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2013
She wears feathers in her hair, so when the wind blows, her mind flys with the breeze,
She wears red lipstick to rub off the kisses she believes aren't meant to stay.
She wakes up each morning to realise the world is still here for one day more,
so she cuts parts of herself to make herself fade away.

Pick me bunches of lavender so that we may go to sleep,
but don't buy me tissues, so i don't have a choice to weep.

She looks past the mirror and sees a image of a different girl that doesn't exist,
and every-time she reads their lips they speak words that come out with a view to ****.
Perfect she speaks and moves when she is outdoors and in a crowd,
but at home she is silent for there lies a fear that a single word willΒ break her still.

Pick me bunches of daisies so that we may feel the grass,
but don't write my story as memories as they are not meant to last

She sleeps openly for nothing, for she does not believe in true love or its fairytale,
she takes affection coldly and wonders why she abundantly sits alone.
Yet in the darkness of being held in someones arms and not seeing the day,
she's a seeker of harsh words so she may run and run away on her own.

Let me watch you work so we can see the beauty you manifest in the air,
but don't tell me you love me because you know i won't care.

There you are, come see me, there you are, come be by my side.
Rachael Stainthorpe
Written by
Rachael Stainthorpe  Huddersfield
(Huddersfield)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems