darling, don't breathe
it might kill you
i know this but i breathe anyway because i must and metal digs deeper into my soft skin
mama, why
why is it alright for my ribs to crack if it means i am desired
my mama cannot answer
she is trying not to breathe
YOU ARE READING
inaurata lingua
Poetrybook two. stars pour from a golden mouth ink drips from a bleeding tongue
