29 October 2012
I have
To hide
Any sort of evidence
My bed
My territory
The only place where
Feelings are spilt, tears are stained.
Privacy seems to be limited
How many people are left?
Left to trust.
Everything reeks with the scent
Of a stressed out girl.
Drowning in her sheets
Pillows clamoring at her
Even the blanket is full of secrets truths and lies
But late at night
The darkness is her friend
Goodbye and goodnight
Bed • Opuss № I