Scrapes of The Lonely World

An echoing voice
calls over the scratchy bare bark earth
a dystopia of loneliness 
and straw hair
Plum tragedy and wavered voices 
cry over the lost
blank stares and crumpled pages fill these 
days
and the obsessive, yearn to do anything
whatsoever 
has disappeared along with our morals.
corrupt, upright ties whip those who beg for peace
and the ample amount of heels
step on bleeding hearts.
A blue light, tattooed on my face, words of 
effort to teach
ricochet in my ears.
A barbwire fence separates anyone 
from the good in the world.
landing on shards of glass and needles from our past year.
 
c

crisscross

NY

17 years old

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