Skeletons in My Boudoir
Published: Thursday, August 29, 2013
Updated: Friday, September 6, 2013 19:09
the ivory powder of my past across my face,
paying close attention to cover
the misled secrets of my expression with its ghostly façade.
the blood red over my cold lips,
its murmur eternally sewed shut
by the whispers that surround my history
and hover over my present.
the misleading paths that I have taken,
I blacken these paths,
and I etch
the darkness of my mistakes,
onto the hooded window of my soul,
leaving the view clouded.
that threaten to tear apart
the hope that is dying on the inside.
I stare into the mirror,
Perceiving the invisible,
Dreaming the unthinkable.
I want not, I feel not, I see not,
the reflection of an existence
the skeleton in my boudoir.
Kirsten Klein is a psychology freshman and can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org
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