"I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of stars makes me dream." ~ Vincent Van Gogh ••••••••••••••••••••••••••• Just a girl making her way through middle school, expressing herself through words. I've been writing since I was 4 (:
My star-lit safety. Gone away. Burned, and cracked,. And fallen prey. It's light again. The night is gone. Sky stained red. By the blood of dawn. At the mercy. Of this sun. To think the morning's.
Heavy harness. Weighing down. Feet cemented. To the ground. Walls surrounding. Breathing fast. Push against them. Can't get past. Iron bars. Pad-locked gate. Metal prison. Sit and wait.
What's the point in breathing. We all, in turn, will die. What's the point in speaking truth, If some of its a lie. What's the point in hiding, if there's no doubt you'll be found.
(sorry, this isn't my best, just something I kind of threw together at the time.
Their very breath is pain Their sightless eyes are stone Their carven features beauty lies, Stand tall but stand alone..
Bottled up secrets Lies, kept inside Living and breathing But I've already died All of the tension Putting cracks in my skin Trying to hide it But the veil is too thin Caught in the spiral...
I looked to the stars On a winter night And what I saw is true A thousand wishes Burning bright In the sky I thought I knew I heard their whispers Calling out From the sky, so deep and...