Best Sunday Dress

I put on my best sunday dress,

And waltz straight into a mess.

With blood running down my legs,

From slices on my thighs.

Everything is so far away;

Everything is painted in pain,

Sorrow and tears flood the floor,

I’ll crawl down into your casket.

I put on my best sunday dress,

And waltz straight into this mess.

With my scissors in hand,

I’ll confess my sins,

To the wind and the rain,

And anyone who has ever loved me.

I’m afraid I’ve come unglued,

I’ve burned you to the ground,

And there’s nothing I can do but mourn your ashes.

I’m coming undone,

My seams are frayed,

And your casket is staring at me.

I’ve sent you to an early grave.

I knew we’d never make it out of here.

2 Kudos

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Stepclaw

1758422882

This is really good poetry! It has some comparisons (my interpretation may be wrong) between the past and present self that are interesting.

(Also I hope you're doing okay! c:)

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THIS IS A SUPR OLD POEM!! im doing much better!!!!!! tysm 4 commenting xp

by 🥩CASSIAN CARNAGE🥩; 1758423119; Report

All good! :3

by Stepclaw; 1758423350; Report