I’m Late

Past purple walls

Through darkness and untold rapture

Paralyzing beauty obscured by an ajar door

A skipping tune seeps with an ominous wind

Run

Rabbit

Run

Placing his hand upon the door

Feeling the presence of the girl inside

A slow creek

A still silhouette

Her blue dress stained

Skin white

A black bow contorts her skin

Perfection punctured

Needles thin

White eyes offer glazed expression

A whisper still upon her lips

Blue lips ooze with shining white

Nails imbedded into bed sheets

Her hand still grips onto bloodstained shards

If only he hadn’t forgotten

If only she could forget

Her love for him boundless

Yet lover’s whim tainted

Distorted

His love for her but a memory

And yet remains her vacant stare

For love has past but life cannot go on

A metallic feel against his skull

A loaded gun makes the least sound

An empty barrel screaming

With bullets only a sound.

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Author: Daniel Gibbon

This site is dedicated to sharing experiences I have had, the good and the bad. I am an aspiring blogger, graphic designer, photographer and director with some interesting experiences to share. I have generated all content on this page from scratch through drawing, creative writing and photography. Stick around and enjoy the lucidity of life.

2 thoughts on “I’m Late”

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