Submissions by vannuysm

Crisp and cold is the gray fall morning,
Like biting into a icy, crimson apple, sprayed with droplets of muddy water.
As gray as the sky, is my thin, dirt-stained skin.
Blue veins climb from the tips of my fingers down to my boney elbow, like vines on a mossy tree.
Oh, how my face reflects the bland day.
I’ve become bitter to this overruled world, indifferent to life.