A Rotting Soul- April 1
She is someone who stands strong
Even when she feels weak
Weak bodied, weak minded.
Knees buckling, she reveals
No sign of vulnerability.
Long thin nails, rusting with time
Protrude from her heart,
Protecting and containing what lays behind;
Harboring dark secrets.
Dark thoughts, pain, fear.
She bruises easily, but discreetly.
She is a great tree, her roots
Firm and steadfast.
Demanding power, respect.
But the bark is slowly peeling back
As she rots within.
No comments:
Post a Comment