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Acrymosity

She used to dwell in a confined room bearing only jalousies as her spectrum of light. Now, her ears are screaming against four old walls of putrid paint, still confined with her same stagnant tarnation of thoughts. She tries quite hard, she exerts more than she could spew. She seeks time, wanders, and falters.

Her world stops spinning, rather starts shrinking. Negativity clouds her brain, neurotic pain. She is resuscitated, becomes infuriated. Her future is stalling, certainly dwindling. Why the long face, why the slow pace?

Plot unknown.

"Her scars are his tonight."

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Eяin Heяoin

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Acrymosity

She used to dwell in a confined room bearing only jalousies as her spectrum of light. Now, her ears are screaming against four old walls of putrid paint, still confined with her same stagnant tarnation of thoughts. She tries quite hard, she exerts more than she could spew. She seeks time, wanders, and falters.

Her world stops spinning, rather starts shrinking. Negativity clouds her brain, neurotic pain. She is resuscitated, becomes infuriated. Her future is stalling, certainly dwindling. Why the long face, why the slow pace?

Plot unknown.

"Her scars are his tonight."

1 comment: