the eyes follow me
i feel every stare
like razor blades
on tender flesh
every cat whistle i ignore
feels like a betrayal
to myself
i'm fresh on the streets
and everyone sees me
as if i'm a walking neon sign
how young
and tiny
and hard headed
i must seem
i'm a challenge
deserted on these streets
deep circles encase
honey brown glow
new flesh prepped
for new high
YOU ARE READING
long gone (save me from this hell)
Poetryquatervois. trigger warning. highest rankings #2 in blackpoet #3 in spokenword #3 in prosepoetry seventh poetry collection (2024)
