That deep driving color.
Pushing me to my end.
Dried and sticky,
so I perfectly clean each line,
Every particle.
As every tear tracks my face,
and I wipe away all that remains.
I love the color red.
It contorts my mouth into a numb frown,
fully unfeeling.
Chop chop,
It speaks to me.
and I don’t say no.
Because I love
red,
crimson,
maroon.
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Author:
Sydney_87 (
Offline) - Published: June 7th, 2022 02:23
- Comment from author about the poem: I'm so tired, physically and mentally. I can't wait two more days to be let out of school.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 22
Offline)
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