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Haunted
she is haunted
two pupils focused on scars and tissue
surrendering, shadowed figures tug at her fingers
never reaching her hand
Filled with whispers
taunted and falling ,
her tears leave gashes upon her cheeks
malnourished
Phantoms come to dance with her
knowing that the nector that lays upon the crevices of her mouth is sweet
and the saltinness that leaves puss dripping from her eyes
is no more then an obese depression fighting for her soul
Alone; spectors dance, dance with-in the recesses of the oblique
purity so heavy that only through the tarnish
can illusions be seen,
lifeless
Does she see?
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~Esen
What is everyone doing in my room?
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