By Cassandre Smith

Ghastly, deafening silence seeps through the seams
Harboring a lifetime of melancholy blue dejection, reeking of ripe regret
It has a hue, it has an aroma
Joylessly flaunting a dismal existence
Knife slices through the denseness that is reality
Let it bleed, ruby red, close the wound, continue to seep, silence

. /