A face that shifts to different forms
She is no ones property to claim
Beautiful yet toxic
An oil slick in the rain
Her eyes are two way mirrors
Seeing through materialism
How I love her shades
So beautiful...
Refracting and setting light free
She is a prism within a prison
Hair so wild and crazy
That opens many doors
Running my fingers through her hair
I am lovingly contaminated
With mind altering spores
She wore love on her blood red lips
For she had nothing to hide
She took in all lifes beauty
Walking through the damp autumn air
With a proud psilocybin stride
Often I would wonder...
Is she part of reality
Or just a lazy angelic dream?
Is she borderline psychosis?
Will she make me blossom?
Or will she make me scream?
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Author:
Syd (
Offline) - Published: November 14th, 2018 19:52
- Comment from author about the poem: The picture was the promt for this poem on another site. Unfortunately I didn't get it finished in time to meet the deadline.
- Category: Fantasy
- Views: 26
Offline)
Comments1
A good write Syd. She seems Kaleidoscopic and psychedelic (not necessarily meaning 'high' on something).
Time for a lay down to recover, after those long words this time of day! lol.
Thank you Orchidee. Enjoy your lie down. Thanks for reading and leaving feed back. Much appreciated.
- Syd
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