MorningsPosted: June 6, 2011
The heart melts every morning
Solidifies during the day, runs again
in blood down the face at night.
Is this how its always going to be
Me melting down a little bit each day?
Me losing a little bit of myself
Till I disappear altogether away?
The wind absorbs the dew kissed blood clots, caresses
The aching limbs, but does not reach within
The feelings intensified, emotions have gone numb
And does not reply to chirping birds anymore. Life runs sick
And dull, no longer sings
Its happy songs nor smiles
Its multicolored smiles. Mornings
I hate mornings. They are the worst.