Concrete carcasses
Zip tied
To our hearts
Trap me
Florescent skylights
Burnt pale skin
Weak
In the knees
Weak
In the head
Raw retinas
Can’t see through
Saltwater
Worn-out
Windshield wipers
Scrape the filth
From my
Fingernails
I had a dream that I was running, running fast, through muddy puddles, crying, wanting nothing but to be home. But the home in my head...
I can’t shake this Empty feeling The peach pit Scraping the bottom Of my wallowing stomach It seems to always cave in Once I had thought...
When I was a child I saw my mother as this beautiful woman with long red curly hair that matched her painted red nails, in my eyes, she...
Comments