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The Red Woman Apr 2019
Everything is grey.
My mood,
my feelings,
my world.
A greyzone,
so I make my lungs pitch black
hoping for
another colour
Korey Miller Feb 2013
it's surreal,
the space between
sleep and waking
the greyzone
before the sandman fills
our eyes with his sweet poison
before they water, saccharine tears
welling up and absolving us of sin

we forget
which secrets
are destined to be kept
inside; despite earlier inhibitions
we decide not to lie
and in the morning we regret
the things we said

we were stars last night
we scintillated, we illuminated
the bricks around us
we brought happiness to the cement

we were stars and i
was a comet-
i fell, but before i hit
the ground, i wished
for validation; i wanted
someone to tell me
my sin was okay but
i petered out,
became watered down
and the tidal wave
pushed the beach's arms aside-
i crashed,
and i did not care for the aftermath.

i do not wish to see you
if you still shine brighter than i-
not when i still miss my own light.
i apologize for the trickery-
i know i said i was fine,
but i was falling when you met me.

— The End —