wrote this for a thing I ended up not going to
Five: things I can see—
a room of people staring at me;
rain coming down outside;
a body I'm trying to hide;
scuff marks on my shoes;
keys I tend to lose
Four: things I can feel—
the bumps of stickers on my phone case;
my shirt, slightly damp and gross from the rain;
glasses pressing gently into my face;
hands that are sweating too much
Three: things I can hear—
my heart raging madly in my chest;
a soft electric hum;
your whispers like
a blade to my wrist
Two: things I can smell—
my body odor lingering despite constant scrubbing;
the desperation and despair clinging to me like cheap perfume
One: thing I can taste—
your lips on mine, even though it is only in my mind.
YOU ARE READING
poems for the dead
شِعرwritings I suppose- mostly a vent, but only ghosts even listen so idk- also sry fer bein so angsty im just constantly sad for invalid reasons general trigger warning for the whole thing bc I forget in some chapters,, most of these are sad and may or...
