Aura
by: Meghan~Jinx
Authors note: This started out to be a poem about me, after realizing I had friends (and loads of acquaintances) but none of them really give a crap about me. Really. Two of my friends are totally self-absorbed, and the others just don't know they hurt my feelings. I guess they think I'm boring. Or they think I'm a snob. But alot people mistake my being shyness for being stuck-up. ::sigh:: -_- Anyway, I realized this fit Draco. I dunno why. It just did. It hurts to be lonely. I hate being twelve.
It's like sitting alone in dead winter,
While the cold numbs your brain
Or slowly drowning in a frozen river
Where your breath is no more
It's like your heart is filled with darkened madness,
While you silently scream your mind away,
I believe it to be more like a plague
A plague of malevolent dreams
That haunt and curse my long nights
And I wonder, as I watch the world pass by through silent, hurtful eyes,
That if a cloud could hang over one's head,
Capturing all their hopes,
Emotions.
Fears.
What would mine hold?
Loneliness, possibly,
Envy,
Hate.
Hate.
The word burns my tongue like hot acid when I utter its very syllables,
Because it is so powerful,
Because it is so true,
Because it is me.
I think you could also say it is like a fire,
Glowing and growing,
And greedily devouring everything weak in its path,
Then the fire burns out,
And all is cold.
This reminds me
It reminds me of what I think too often,
If the aura of my soul was a color,
Which would it be?
Except, with all the thoughts, and emotions I feel,
Why could it be just one?
Maybe it is a rainbow of shades,
Then I remember,
When you mix too many together,
You'll eventually get
The color black.