more.bad.poetry

where awkward private thoughts become public knowledge.


Leave a comment

Dusk

Was that girl in the mirror sad?
She looked so much like me
Then shards of glass flew at my face
With lightning breakneck speed.

Is it just an illusion, my confusion setting in?
I never seem to see the darkness starting from within.

I tried to hold tight to that golden rope
Should have lifted me up with my hopes.
The wind is picking up and I’m getting tired –
If I could climb up to the top
I know I’d make this feeling stop.

At first it made sense to climb
It really seemed worth it this time.
The lights, they’re fading into dim
Just like dusk is setting in.
Why was I so open? all the words I spoke and
The way I let myself let you in.

Advertisements