My market for kids
Will not be for kids
Bright lights, feet pounding the floor
Quiet as the midnight sky
They will come
The kids your parents warned us about
Pierced lips and bloody thighs
Cute voices with a hidden shield
They wield you into the kids
The market for
Kids
Is for
YOU ARE READING
My Unstable Poetry
PoetryA diary of sorts. 2015-2017. A poetry collection of angst, depression, and epiphanies.
