She begs the sun to bleach her brain
Too many diseases, disorders
Too much hatred and grief
She endures with them
Their trauma cuts into her green aura
Slices her past open through the bolted door
Rusty locks and cracked timber
She feels cold feet on dirty soil
The dampness of moss infested walls
The mind torturing plop of the dripping tap
How her porcelain face longs for the gentle sun
Her world is split into two
She is the bridge, the hand
to carry them from then to now
she resists the grip of the past
"Hold on to the warm sun" she whispers
Before her eyes
The dark shadows, dim cellar, cold winter
fading and peeling off like chalk drawings
She begs the sun to bleach her brain
laying golden shimmers on canvas
filled with light and warmth
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Flicker of Thoughts 
love to hate
hate to wait
hesitate
her final frontier
has already been there
as if she knew he could care anymore
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i really love this one 🙈 maybe because i relate somehow 💕💖
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I am glad you can relate. Hope you are well Yiena! 💚💕
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This is so sad. It’s a glimmer of hope when all is dark and dim. I can feel the warmth of the sun. It is so blissful. When all is lost, we cling to faith.
Lovely writing as always. 🙂
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