Bleed on paper
Bleed on paper1 min 282 1 min 282
I have this strange habit of living inside my head,
So many conversations,
So many words and feelings go unsaid.
I live beyond the edge of the real crust,
Many a time, I fantasize scenarios and paint them with sparkle and dust.
When I look into space,
I dream of galaxies calling my name,
The moon echoing the thoughts I chase.
I meet people and I look into their eyes,
And I can see the scars and bruises,
I can read their thousand lies.
The world waits for the sky to turn dark into the sheets of night,
So they can sleep in their dreams,
And I wait for the hour, to bleed and write.