Blank Verse · Emotional warfare · poetry

Oh no, no moh. . .

Let the words paint a picture,

Let the sky bleed its auburn horizon.

As the sun sees you in your room,

Hiding. . . 

Crying. . .

Tries all the tears of your skies.

Fears all of men’s spies.

So please,

Paint me my pain.

Please. . .

Don’t let all my wounds heal again.

It will be the colors

Which will be my gallery

To see my selfish gain that which can be attained,

All of it can start again when I leave the day to sleep,

And mourn at night and let them see,

How their mouths affect. . .

How all of it infect,

When they keep my pain intact.

Knowingly it starts again and again.

๐Ÿ’ซ๐Ÿ’ซ๐Ÿ’ซ๐Ÿ’ค๐Ÿ’ค๐Ÿ’ค๐Ÿ’ข๐Ÿ”ฅ๐Ÿ”ฅ๐Ÿ’ฅ๐Ÿ”ฅ

Sorry out of images, illustrations, drawings on this one.

๐Ÿ†•๐Ÿ†—๐Ÿ†™๐Ÿ†š๐Ÿ†’๐Ÿ“ด๐Ÿ“ณ๐Ÿ”›๐Ÿ”œโ™ˆ๐Ÿ”š

ยฉOliver Melendez

ยฎohms

โ„ขXENOphagz

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