Streams of paint
Bleed down
The sky
As battle cries
Blur, and fade
Like mistakes
The greenAnd brown
Of dying things
I know what
This is, but
I can't escape
My livingMemories
My other fate
So runningThrough walls
Of gravity
I don't knowWhen to stop
Falling Until
Four wallsPainted by
My own hands
Tell meHow to breathe
Again.
YOU ARE READING
THOUGHTLESS │✔️
PoetryThe words The petals On a flower that Thrives by appearance Is only Will merely Be a flimsy Taste of what's inside Why price By the eyes The symmetry Of flawed beauty As though As most Are weighed by Thoughtless ideals For those Four arrows A sma...