i am a dainted rose
and the flames consume me
i know i am nothing
but i still try to grow
through the cracks on that brick wall
i just want to grow
and shine
the plastic
it traps me
it cuts the air off
my petals fall
and my colours fade
all
nothing
was i ever something
to someone?
i am a crumbled up piece of paper in the corner
i am a paper airplane
crafted with every ounce of hope
landed head first onto the floor
picked up
thrown and tossed without a care
came crashing onto the cold hard ground
god it hurts
picked up again
die
live
die...
eventually
i belong to the trash
i am a piano with broken keys in the middle of a forest
the melody long gone
i hold onto them
they slip through my fingers
like the sunlight slip through the gaps between the leaves
sparks kiss me
and my broken pieces
i try to sing a song
that beautiful boy
his fingers traced along my body
touched my soul
every inch of my skin
he admired me like a work of art
the breeze lifts my hair
he lifted my soul
i try to remember
yet the more i reminisce
the more they run
my memories are lone wolves
and i am the hunter
oh
please
stay a little longer
just
a little
...longer
for i
am
a dainted rose.
My first poem here. I don't usually use all small cases, except when dark thoughts cut off my air during the a.m.