City of sins and sybarites. The night that bound a cold shroud. Solid shadows and completely blank faces mean nothing. Making your way through gloomy scents and 24/7 clubs, feeling only regret. Dark emptiness. Finding yourself all alone in this silence, it seems that such city will touch you.
Fucking motherhood.
She made her way through thorns to the stars. Branded clothes didn’t bring happiness. Too mush clothes. Unpackaged, clothes were lying underfoot, as much as you could not carry. It’s impossible to get it into secondhand even with tags. Spots that you won't notice in pitch darkness, but pay attention in daylight. Oh yeah. She loved clothes the most. The Iranian prince presented the ring. Greenstone, like the color of her eyes. And even a pawnshop won't take it.
I got sick that night, wandering the streets looking for rags with labels.
Spotlights, burning signs, hookahs places, everything you can buy. Like a little kid who wants fame and success. And if it’s very lonely, you always can get trip by train.
Tags, labels, emblems, jewelry, salons, grooming procedures. What's next? Who will remember this?
But she would never exchange the freedom and rhythm of the City for quiet, calm happiness with the family and children.
#poetry
#wordporn
#lovemaking#societyofpoetry#poem#story#truestory#writer#heartofquill#poetrycommunity#poet#bymepoetry#emotions #depression #writingcommunity#lonlyness#bethesda#ubisoft #novocherkassk#london#yandex#gameplay#steam#hollywood #unrequitedlove#likes#allyouneed#Soho
#abstractart #art
LoGoSence 