i've grown used to
finding
little ways
to make my senses clear of the situation we're in.
little ways
of touching the border of pain
with the ends of my fingertips
rolling little waves of hot coffee around
leaving minuscule burn marks
scraping sides of dry lips
with crunchy food
let sourness soak in a little too much
burning little holes
excessive use of muscles
knowing I won't be able to use them for some time after that
it really is about the small things in life
YOU ARE READING
unsmiling
Poetryi could call this 'poetry' or 'my poetry' but this really is just a scramble of words. kinda like a blog of some sort. I sometimes need to write something down and I do have a little notebook with scribbles and scrabbles but I thought it would be ki...
