literature

you float like a feather, in a beautiful world

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Published: Jul 2, 2014

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Literature Text


no one knew her, and no one wanted to. 
she spent 9am nights with sticky tears pressed to her
cheeks, foundation smudged on her face,
yet she refused to believe that happiness would 
replenish her in any way.
stubbornness leaked with the same rancid smell
every night, a white sheep in a fog of thunder clouds.
it was like a pale storm 
had passed over her pupils,
forever rainy days 
with no sunshine displayed in the retinas
for the hungry children of the sun to croon over.
she told me once
that she never wanted to be happy again,
never wanted crinkles to appear in a haze under her eyes, because she believed happiness was stupidity; blank words on paper and wet paintbrushes with nothing to paint.