My world is like a movie.
But older, in black and white...
The plot line is weird and rambly. So am i.
They gave me flowers as a gift,
A funny get well soon
The flowers will die,
How ironic, right?
All the colors drain out...like Draino
In the mirror, it isn't me,
But I move, and so does she.
It's only a figure, not a girl at all.
Only the eyes are mine, filtered green
It's so pretty, glazed over
Like a donut or cake, or something pink and sweet.
They gave me flowers as a gift, I threw them all away.
Picking them off in a 'he loves me' type cliche.
They wilt in the bin, underneath harsh artificial sun.
And I’ll let the colors drain out.
They’ll turn and mesh and fold
Their dead petals all strobing, in an epileptic fit.
All I see is static
Grey and bleak.