Art by Iris Obscura on DeviantArt
She steps barefoot through the light,
floor still damp with what used to be childhood.
The flower dropped when it was over—
like a truth too delicate to survive the saying.
Behind her, innocence lays curled,
not quite dead, but no longer breathing.
She doesn’t cry.
She doesn’t know she’s supposed to.
About the Creator
Iris Obscura
Are you after "polite?"
Stable?
This is the wrong place.
Looking for the kind of beauty that looks like it crawled out of a fluorescent supermarket at 2:13 am and somehow asked you about meaning.
Read on.
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