i toss and turn,
tangling the bedspread.
the wooden floor creaks
under the movement.
the light shines in through the
streaked windows.
i swear you are tattooed
on the insides of my eyelids,
because even when they're closed,
all i see is you.
birds chirp your name
YOU ARE READING
ampersand
Poetrya collection of trash poetry from a girl who tries to treat people with kindness although many have been unkind to her
