shayesie

On My Own 

I don’t want to have to be someone. On canyon walls, we’ve
written wake up calls, but no one slows down to read them.

Red feels like the warmth of solitude when the sun peeks
through where it can in caves we’ve built with window panes.

And blinds slide in and out of sight as we wonder what it
would feel like to leave. Coursing through veins we’ve drawn on

there’s something in my body that shouldn’t be, scratching and
screaming, go go go. Why is it a sin to be alone?

Stay gold,
Sabrina