Illusions

I placed a rose petal upon her blue lips.

Death was gorgeous.

Her name was Harley.

Now her name is Gone.

Her arms are painted red.

An x marks her cheek.

Her nails are already blackening with decay.

 

My eyes fluttered

Painful white sunlight

I am not Gone. I am not Harley.

I am hidden between the sheets.

My alarm clock is trilling.

The deathful beauty is gone.

At least on the outside.

 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741