Feeling like a dead fish.
Gasping for air that is no longer needed.
How pitiful, how ridiculous.
Cold not because it's cold
but cause fishes never had warmth.
Lying still, the fish refuse to fight for it's last breath of life.
Losing her voice,
she was rendered into a mute doll
who merely watches the crowd like a mannequin in a glass display.
A look of dream.
A dash of hope.
A sprinkle of wish.
A splash of joy.
A spot of gold.
A bubble of illusion.
A word that says nothing of it's past.
A hope that never brought light.
A tear that never dried.
And a cloud that never turn white.
Dream on dreams.
Star above stars.
A broken chord from a broken guitar.
A broken requiem for a broken soul.
Why is art deemed so unworthy of the space it was given.
Rules are like wires wrapped around the throat.
One Thug. and your head falls...
Maybe the body doesn't requires the head to be happy.
No matter how much a smashed up orange try,
it will never look like an apple,
no matter how equally rotten the apple is.
She drowned her heart in her own song as she tried to walk back into the dark, where she felt safe.
her hands stopped as though time not longer moved for her as she sat in a corner looking at the time
