I find myself on concrete ground in the pouring rain
I find my lifeless body lying on the cold wet pavement stripped of dignity
Stripped of pride
Stripped of hope
Organs scattered about on the ground with some missing because
honestly,why would I need them?
Why can’t others just take what they need from the Jane Doe in the pouring rain?
She’s not using them
No blood can be found simply because bleeding is feeling and I’ve been numb for months
In its place you see the striking confidence mixed with the everlasting wit flooding out among strands of ***** blonde hair slipping away with the rain to its final resting place far far away from my lifeless corpse
I find myself wearing all white and semi-holding a small white flag to counteract with your many red ones that I just began noticing
They were in your actions
They were in your dialect
They were in your lingering glances
Flags of bright crimson and ones the color of sweet wine forever in the hands that at one point fit so well with mine
I gave in to the storm
I let the hurt surround me like as if I am the eye of the hurricane and the world is consuming me whole
But you’re safest in the eye of the storm
Watching all the black and grey swarm around you as it destroys the innocent earth
Maybe I’ve always been the eye and I am now drifting into the storm itself?
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 10:51 PM UTC
I find myself on concrete ground in the pouring rain
I find my lifeless body lying on the cold wet pavement stripped of dignity
Stripped of pride
Stripped of hope
Organs scattered about on the ground with some missing because
honestly,why would I need them?
Why can’t others just take what they need from the Jane Doe in the pouring rain?
She’s not using them
No blood can be found simply because bleeding is feeling and I’ve been numb for months
In its place you see the striking confidence mixed with the everlasting wit flooding out among strands of ***** blonde hair slipping away with the rain to its final resting place far far away from my lifeless corpse
I find myself wearing all white and semi-holding a small white flag to counteract with your many red ones that I just began noticing
They were in your actions
They were in your dialect
They were in your lingering glances
Flags of bright crimson and ones the color of sweet wine forever in the hands that at one point fit so well with mine
I gave in to the storm
I let the hurt surround me like as if I am the eye of the hurricane and the world is consuming me whole
But you’re safest in the eye of the storm
Watching all the black and grey swarm around you as it destroys the innocent earth
Maybe I’ve always been the eye and I am now drifting into the storm itself?
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