Place your hand in my cheeks,
feel the stain my tears made
The roughness of every pore
and the color of every pimple
I'll let you touch my hair
and I'll even let you know
what the voices say
Though it doesn't listen to me
maybe it will, to you
So please, tell them
to stop misjudging your kindness
as a cinematic love language
A/N
thank you so much for reading my poems
i love y'all mwehehe
there's a storm here
YOU ARE READING
Dazed Off
PuisiSee what the young poet wrote in her old journals at only the age of twelve, and how her mental state progressively gets worse at age fifteen:) Collection of poems mostly about God, family, love, and hate to oneself. • most impressive ranking: #6 in...
