The shattered gray and foamy waves take over my field of green

I see everything you want in the reflection of me

Those memories are ghosts, residing in the dark corners of my mind.
They’ve dulled my life to gray and I’m unable to see colors of any kind.
Flashes of pain decorate my eyes, but no one seems to see.
I continue to hide my truth, don’t know how else to be.

I claw at my body, nails breaking through layers of skin
Trying but miserably failing to erase the horror within
Rivers of tears fall upon my wounds and leave them scorched
Day by day, my misery is reinforced.

I feel myself slowly dying year after year
But I’m dragged back to life by my own shrieks of fear.
I stumble around with a foggy head
I don’t bare my heart to anyone, I show a fake smile instead.

a sunrise never promised you a sunset,
but you expected it anyway
as my skies turned gray immediately
in your disappointed eyes

© L.F.

i was given a succulent in the 2nd week of uni.
it was small, green, young like me.
it was already flourishing unlike me.
i overwatered it in the beginning, too flushed,
too eager to take care of someone else.
my first month living alone.
i knocked it over 1 night.
half of its leaves came off after a careless nudge.
it was exam season.
now i stare at it, thinking.
does it embody me? the rot inside me?
half the leaves missing, a fifth growing a sick green?
is that my portrait of dorian gray?
i dare not water it. i dare not touch it.
my own portrait shut away.
it is now 1 day from semester 2.
will i survive?

the sky was gray
a dismal day
the water was still without you
my mind was astray
the rain made clay
there's just something about you
the stars have lost their shine
like marbles in the sky
the whole world seems lost
and i think that i know why
you left me on a sunny day
gone without a trace
now the world is filled with sorrow
everything is gray

I know not if those eyes are green or blue;
I only know they hold pastures and oceans.
Warm, lush pastures that draw me by their comfort,
In which I sit and speak and soak and rest.
Tossing, swelling oceans where my power
Is forsaken in the never-ceasing waves of beauty.

You claim they boast a tint of gray, but I must disagree
The gray appeared when those eyes began reflecting me.