Stray Jacket
Reality like a mist,
Thoughts like a darkness.
Clear blue tears bleed red,
And Skin fluttering like burning paper.
Reality like a mist,
And spoken words fits into its illusion.
Body disappears like the sun,
Reappears like thoughts in darkness.
Everything, nothing,
Valid and Void.
Am I in this locked room?
As clear water,
Fall on my hands with same precision,
As the red drops from the bleeding ceiling.
The room, the room,
Is burning away like paper I say.
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