
There was a war that day
indisputably
although, nobody talked about it
you would see them walking by a little faster
their funny hats tilting from side to side
Sometimes the sky would shatter above us
And bleed neon blue
the drains would flood
the cats drown in screeches
what good is having nine lives
if you don’t know how to stay afloat
People are all the same
Everyone would unfold their umbrellas
Hoping for the weather to clear
The shards of metal and from the air
they stay cramped in their corners
watching their toes rot away from the humidity
Under-dressed little girl
strutting about, singing
dead men can walk
madness her name
lost her little mind
in the deluge
the acid raindrops
digging trough her temples
like a poem
and when the streets eventually dried up
she would be found crying
in the sewer
bent over the smeared ink stains
the disfigured body
of a paper print lover
[Malicia Frost, or Henna, which is her real name, is a hobbyist writer and an aspiring novelist from Finland. She enjoys surrealism, sci-fi and horror, and her works often deal with mental illness. More of her writing can be found at her personal blog.]
[Author would like to comment: Thank you all for being patient as I’m going trough a very stressful time in my life. I haven’t been half as active on SD as I would have wished, and I’ll try to make it all up to you. You guys are awesome and insanely talented.]