Lonely by Abigail Ransom

Her eyes scream out,

Sitting quietly her tears wash her pale cheeks. 

Desperate…her heart bleeds the truth, 

Pretend the past won’t relive. 

Death echoes through the falls, 

Speeding light slows the breathe. 


Smiles made easy with fake love.

Walking the trail of rolling hills, 

Fantasy can hurt more than surreal life,

The domain breaks softly, 

While Mondays keep coming. 

The state of being drifts endlessly. 

Combinations of color decorate her skin, 

Hands grip tightly, 

These lines just seem to be filled. 

She’s nothing, only me, blue and lonely.


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