• vellicator 23w


    Drip, drip
    Slowly down
    Down her arms
    To the ground.

    Thinks about
    What she just heard
    Her mouth is dry
    Can't say a word.

    The flowers smile
    In rains of doom
    Phlegmatic, she wishes
    She could too.

    The voices remain
    Circling her ears
    Faster and louder
    Brewing her fears.

    Around and around
    Her demons scream
    Tell her there's nothing
    She can achieve.

    She can no longer handle
    The stress of it all
    Another drip
    Slowly falls.

    Her face, it shines
    But her smile is a lie
    On the surface she's happy
    And inside she cries.