May 6
Insects trill, buzz, and clack.
Swarming down my neck and back.
They scatter for my toes,
Streaming from my nose.
In hundreds of pairs,
Legs climb through my hairs.
They burrow deep in any pore,
God, I wish I couldn't feel anymore.
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Poetry For The Lost People
Poetry365 observations and comments about society, life and love throughout 2022. Come with me on my journey day by day, as I write what I've always wanted to say. There is no method or planning, just thoughts and perceptions about the way of the world. A...
