The Headache drips and stains the white rug. Time peels the floor off you shoes. Walking enters the room, Spilling your drink. Untied knots no longer travel through you fingers. Leaking innocence walks on walls, Walls walk on the untrue. The wall falls, The eadache stops.
Reason for writing:
Maybe Insperation will come ith the next thought.
This poem came sentence by sentence, it flowed.
No previous thought was put into it.
Birth sign: Aries
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by Shelley.