(1)
Cherry blossoms and sunshine,
Midnight therapy, with a glass of wine
Colossal crunch, with a bit of toast
Then sirloin, no red, at the most.
Nothing to you, but everything to me.
I know our differences, it's very clear to see.
(2)
Red and white, and yellow crept in. As if my sadness could be healed again. Slowly the day faded away and my walls began to drop, so I drank some poison and grasped my stock, and fled for the memories at bay. Mornings eating my colossal crunch, that cut the roof of my mouth. With each and every bite, I taste the blood, from that night. When I had a steak and it was medium rare, when I specifically asked, please no red, anywhere. As the blood dropped down my plate, I fear for the animal. Then for my sake. Because little do you know, as soft as I can be. There's so much that you just can't see
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YOU ARE READING
Thoughts Of Me, Sorry.
PoetryJust everyday, unconventional, uplifting, relatable, sad writings. Take a journey through my head. **warning-may make you unconsciously slip into a corner alone, with sad music drowning you through your headphones**
