Water flowing down the permanent canals.
Colors running and bleeding together.
Red pressure spots residing in their familiar place.
Years of brokenness and neglect.
Ducts thought to be dried,
Yet springs forth gallons more.
How the nights are spent in a watery grave.
Cries heard from no one except her pillow.
Too many chances, to forgive again.
Quietness is welcomed, but hated.
For she lost all including herself,
And sadness became her only friend.
Feb 2, 2013
Feb 2, 2013 at 2:47 PM UTC
Water flowing down the permanent canals.
Colors running and bleeding together.
Red pressure spots residing in their familiar place.
Years of brokenness and neglect.
Ducts thought to be dried,
Yet springs forth gallons more.
How the nights are spent in a watery grave.
Cries heard from no one except her pillow.
Too many chances, to forgive again.
Quietness is welcomed, but hated.
For she lost all including herself,
And sadness became her only friend.
