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Bleed her beautiful

Pushing thoughts,
to the center of her mind.
Focus, please.
Brown curls cascade
around her porcelain skin.
She’s perfection.

What else would you call it?

Beating on the door,
She’s still lying in the crimson.
They surround her darkening mind.
What better way to fade?



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icefaerie10111 said...
Aug. 23, 2010 at 9:43 am:
It's dark (which is cool), but very lovely. I hope you right more poems like this.
 
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