Minds White
Souls Missing
Hearts blank
Cold, lifeless wind through my hair
Looking down at the glorious new world
The moving blurs racing like chariots
Scars are bunnies wanting to bounce away
Sorrow flowing fast through my veins
The time of sharp pains of his hands recurring
Glass bottles smashing, skin dripping of disappointment
Off I go to the colorful, hard sea
10, 9, 8
Guess they’re too late
Written at 15 years of age.