where im not wanted
a cruel thing
to feign
to brisk the
rubble off
of my body
left over
from rock bottom
where you bring me
with heavy knees
carrion
youre the flies
prying at
a crushed
dead squirrel
on the street
what i would give
for a second's rest
from at least
one thing
in my life
constantly
shitting on me
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
