Thursday, April 6, 2017

Buenas Noches to my illusions

Buenas noches my darling. I lay here staring at false stars, thinking about life. When wounded my heart bleeds in poetry. Little drops, here and there... More when the emptiness of the night creeps in. It's as though I woke from a beautiful dream. I lost the sense of safety and hope for future plans. The silence makes me doubt it was ever real. Little drops of blood on my pillow. Pin pricks throughout the day. So many illusions shattered in so short a time. And all I hear is silence,what was real? 

No comments:

Post a Comment