Golden Pearls

May 18, 2011
By Anonymous

it hurts to breathe.
the sun is melting my soul with its toxic flavors,
but the morning dew shields me under its drop.
i hold my freedom shut up tight in a drawer of golden pearls;
a princess in an abyss of lost emotion.
my words are shackled to an idea that is not my own,
poisoned at the roots.
a heart beaten with imagination lurks in the corner of an empty room,
in an upright position.
a memory card becomes a head of its own when surrounded by flesh
and a white horse rides into a fictional sunset.
a crack in the plastic cover cuts my eyes
into diamond shaped pupils
that disappear in an unexpected moment.
time goes by and leaves fall majestically from a tree,
three feet off the ground.
i hide inside my head.

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