precious being
In a suicide poem written by desire between her and the aura of being a woman,
she realizes how lonely moments can be
but never stops to breathe.
On an avalanche of falsified hopes,
lacking the self esteem that she is capable of harboring,
she throws all her emotions on the floor,
believing she is not capable of anything other than moments…
she is a master of the art in finishing second best,
they love her as an impostor,
as much as they love a secret.
this is all she knows,
this is her emotional casualty.
Can hardly stand it
the noise in her head
Run past the red signal of stop
She’ll never wise up
She’ll never wise up…
Nice work!