the perpetual agony of amelia frances
i've been
subjected to
my rasped voice
for the millionth time
because i lost control
of the one thing
i had control over
now my body
is turning
inside-fucking-out
too vulnerable
too much to be known
glasswork
maybe you
think i'm
cynical
misanthropic
pessimistic
but i simply
know that
glasswork is
bound to break
YOU ARE READING
poetry
Poetrypoetry with no rhyme or rain most of these r rlly old and embarrassing but im keeping them for the lore
