shattered glass has never looked so soft. my mind runs circles around my hands.
blood seeps. fear attacks. carefully, i lie back onto the glass.
i'm gone. the clock tells me it's time. i wake up hours later with shining lights. it wasn't my fault.
she killed me before i killed her. but i saw my hands, and it was a dream. and she was dead.
YOU ARE READING
untitled poems
Poetrythese are my untitled poems. i write when boredom strikes. they vary by my mood, and they may have different lines & stanzas than the next. they may rhyme. they may not. i don't capitalize my letters.
