it's as if every color except black,
somehow escaped my mind.
and when my dreams come to life,
they're just matchstick men,
because i'm drained of creactivity.
and when i try to write,
when i try to explain this big wound in my chest,
that's leaking meaningfulness and memories,
i just scribble down some words on a trashed piece of paper.


they're just inkstains.
simply spots on a white surface,
how could they mean anything?

the sky put on its mourning dress,
and walks the walk of shame.
360 degrees and then it's over.
the humuliation of nio billion eyes staring at your nakedness,
is enough for anyone to wave their white flag.
the clouds went to sleep,
so i'll rain on my own parade.
big salty drops that lost their meaning
in all those movies where the hearts that are broken are not real.

my eyes are so coloured by my soul that they melt together.
the dark stain on my bathroom carpet grows bigger and bigger
as i spill my own heart on the floor,
mixed with my lost trail of thought,
as lost as my trust in myself.

you know how,
when you stare down a hole,
it seems like there just falling, falling, falling
andthe blackness seems to go on forever?

it does.

Poetry by crushoftheyear
Read 602 times
Written on 2006-02-01 at 22:41

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