Ash Motes Poet Free verse

2-14-19

For a second my facade slips,
And i stare in the mirror,
Without colors of yellows and reds,
The proof of her anger shows through.
 The words she screamed
Still repeat in my head,
Slicing open new wounds,
That'll bleed until im dead.
 A few salty tears burn new cuts,
As they roll down my cheek,
I cuss myself more,
For allowing myself to be weak.
 Slipping the facade back into place,
Forced a smile upon my lips,
I pick up the colors of yellow and reds,
To cover up her love left on me in blue

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