"It's just blood" They said passing the freshly glistened reddish iron tungsten blade as if it were a joint And I took it. Puff puff pass. Now I puff alone for things I cannot exempt from being my own, problems, past
Yet I feed them everyday in hopes I end up drowning in the refuse
I tolerate as much as I despise. yet I see me drinking by myself so much more frequently after pledging allegiance to my recovery, yet, I've never allowed myself to recieve accolades under the influence. So, why shouldn't I observe those medals of silver and bronze without dismissal: due to performance enhancement. Isn't society run on caffeine?
i know the raven quoth "nevermore" and croaked himself horse for Lady Macbeth while the crow is an omen of doom or a messenger carrying secrets for the gods but if i saw one of these blackened birds in solitude i doubt i could tell which it was
Again before an emptiness of soul, where all is fears. Awake but mind devoid of light or any new ideas. Crushing feeling of loneliness permeates the very air. Every action taken or ignored devoid of simple care.
How did I become this decayed and empty thing? Thinking daily upon miseries, so often days before did bring. Distant, faded memory of the moments that made a smile. So fleetingly they went to allow despair room all this while.
Worth? A sense of purpose long deserted, gone and fled. Only a loathing and a pointlessness is left to fill my head. Long days before today and for others still yet to come, Without reason to be, certain only eventually I will succumb.
Like coats of paint upon a wall each day another layer smears. No smiles, no joy, no hope just a face soddened by my tears. Ever present darkness, shrouds of dark veils upon me, drape. Calling increasing loudly that there is only one true escape.
Though I style my curly braids with ribbons bright, and colour my sweet moist lips with royal red to look as bright and fair as a newly wed. Though I stand on two towers to get a better height, with eyelashes that beckon at each gazer. Though my trendy gowns make me a trailblazer with great designer labels that distinguish. Though I have curves which men wished they could relish, revealed slightly through my ******* clad frame. Though I have this charm which could hardened hearts tame, making vicious criminals to dream and lust, still I am nothing more than organic dust.
Beauty is like a Flower. It blossoms for a while and then fades into oblivion.