The Good The Bad
Good.
Praised by all
Loved by many
Raised to the open sky
with light of the shinning of the glowing sun
dancing upon their shoulders
Bad.
Disgusting, everyone gossips
How could they even be such
a horrid, retched, person?
We trample them in our mud soaked boots
letting them be crushed in our path.
Aren’t we all the same?
-μ
Erase
I keep trying to create
To spread the words in my head
to the smooth abandoned wasteland of my paper
I will never be the best at writing
I can't seem to transfer my ideas well enough
Or maybe I just don't have ideas at all
Write erase write erase
Erasers worn away
Thoughts are gone
Maybe I'm not as smart as I thought
Not Yours
I glance at the cracked reflection of
the girl in the glass.
Her eyes are brimming with pain
She winces at the bruises
and the marks of his fingers
the scratches and the scars
where he pressed his mark
claiming what was hers
as his own.
She has seen pain that no others have.
The grim reaper called
But told her
He lifted you up into my arms
But I refused to accept his gift
You have too much to live for.
I stare at this girl
But I don’t see myself
I see a corpse
staring back into my eyes
There,
She’s gone.