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Wild Myths
Poems
Nov 2014
Always a nice girl
I exist as a mirror
Wild lights have glazed over your skin
My whispers are tarnished
Our bodies a shield
Against the coming chills of a brittle wind
I linger with a breeze-like touch,
It comes out hoarse and swollen.
Thoughtsย ย uttered with a breath of regret
Or a sigh of relief.
Your face turns foreign, a mesh of dark warmth
A light without the sun.
Weโre all a wounded red
on the inside.
Written by
Wild Myths
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