Greenish-bruised sleeve
opened up wishes.
On the image
to be painted.
Oozing mockery
under few loves.
Holding hard proof
by callous breaths.
Pots of gold
for a pool of blood.
A stamp of spots
for an endless mark.
..............................
I have this greenish-bruised sleeve, as a product of an eventful incident. It is never an accessory I wish to carry, though a reminder on my existence. It has been a subject of mockery and hateful sing along, which is sad, having it coming and revolve around my household.
Regardless of the stupid manner it being appreciated, I am quite happy to have the honour of holding such, since it being said by members of strangers murmuring the coming of luck hidden under it.
I might very well be made fun of, or having names called for having it. At the very best, I know those friends who never treat it like how the features in my current episodes treat me, will be in me.
Does neon lights, jumping animals and old history part of the deal for the pimp-ish pot from leppy?
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