here i am, sitting in this box. everything was white, everything, except myself.
i - i was a colourful rainbow.
but as i aged and aged and aged,
the walls that i knew as home, had grown blacker and blacker and
blacker.
until,
everything was black;
including me.
YOU ARE READING
enough.
Poetrymay the blood i bleed for you finally be enough. slampoetry #4 - october 22