|
a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
|
|
a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
|
![]() I slip on my dress Its white silk brushes my skin like a soft sheet Then goes on the veil rough as a mosquito net An array of flowers make way
into my hands They look at me with a vibrant smile I look at them, smelling their sweet, delightful aroma Thorns of the roses pierce my palms I feel it in my heart Warm blood trickles down To the velvety-red carpet, camouflaging Hundreds of eyes stare me down the rose- petaled aisle Their stares pierce through my soul, I'm a bride of lies I ask myself: Do I want this? Is it really love or is it simply yearning? I am not sure Life will soon be over Freedom and independence Snatched away for eternity Life is now dead. Comments are closed.
|
Categories
All
* = Editors' Choice work
Unless otherwise noted, all pictures used are open-source images in the public domain. Archives
September 2023
|