Eve
There are nights On Which A night- Mare would Actually be Welcome. The lick of Flames, The sound of Wood Against Skin - Bruises Blooming Beneath clothing And the guns Talking.
There are Droplets Of Blood splattered Across the Stars of my Soul And my thoughts Are caught Entranced - Stolen. Lost like the Oblivion I Seek.
If I open my eyes, I see a new ghost every day. Some of them don't see me, They're trapped in patterns they Don't want to leave.
The red beret was never a good sign.
One day, I Will just Walk onto the darkened stage And when the Music stops, Because I didn't dance, I'll take my bow, Apologise, And hope the judges Will allow me To exit, Stage right, with...