26/10/2010

Depressive Psychedelia

the glass was blue
just like the liquid inside
but nothing was ever
as blue
as she would have liked it

she couldn’t remember
why she had smeared
all of her pills
with blood,
maybe it was her way
of apologising
to everyone she had wronged

the background noises,
plagued her eardrums
she wanted to escape the vibrations
and all of the green monsters
that came with them

her screams were an unvoiced violet
and no matter how hard she tried
she could never,
see the black and white