lovingword

She looks up at the bright sky, 

that is covered with clouds.

Her eyes tense

and shed from the light,

yet there is no sun.  

Instead there are clouds in all shapes and forms,

never ending clouds. 

All in different gray nuances.  

 

And she feels like she wants to hide in there,

be absorbed by them.

Maybe even become one. 

Then there will be no more emotions, 

no feelings of rejections. 

Just the fluff of invisible materia, 

unable to touch

and always with the same result. 

Skin with grey pearls of water. 

 

But she is standing under the clouds,

unable to reach up.

So the nerves of her arms tries to break free, 

screaming something about overload.

It's pinching from inside,

wants to crawl

and flee.

The blood writes a message too. 

shame.

 

The arms 

waving like a mad man, 

clenching like a boxer 

or playing frantically with the fingers like a pianist. 

All at once,

under the surface. 

 

 

Bending down,

the clouds gets darker.

 

Wet, gray skin

with blood sprinkling down the arms.  

 

/Boredome might be the reason, so now I'm erasing all that can remind me.