She is alone,
silent,
for now.
But she is there,
floating
through the deepest wounds,
through unconscious memories
But she is there,
drowning you,
in ferocious waves
of emotions
continuously crashing,
and smashing,
and thrashing,
at your heart.
And even the slightest
flicker
of sentiment
can set her off.
Like the burning of
skin
when the slithering flame
from the spitting fire
licks your arm
is her wrath
when,
if,
aroused.
She is anger and temper,
she is love
and lipstick stains,
she is blood,
she is the most loudest
silence,
she is alone,
she
is
red.
silent,
for now.
But she is there,
floating
through the deepest wounds,
through unconscious memories
But she is there,
drowning you,
in ferocious waves
of emotions
continuously crashing,
and smashing,
and thrashing,
at your heart.
And even the slightest
flicker
of sentiment
can set her off.
Like the burning of
skin
when the slithering flame
from the spitting fire
licks your arm
is her wrath
when,
if,
aroused.
She is anger and temper,
she is love
and lipstick stains,
she is blood,
she is the most loudest
silence,
she is alone,
she
is
red.