Hi... I'll cut you. It's these sharp bits that grow out of my heart. With a tongue f fire, perhaps I'll be able to better taste your soul,that it shall live beside me only should it pass the crucible. I can carve from you the better bits, if only you'd sit still and listen, but it is a hard moment with the mind to garner it's attention, but my wit is as sharp as my tongue, and you can taste the speed with which I think if you can just wait long enough to stare me in the eyes... But it was a long hard creep out of my chrysalis... and those sharp bits are not made of purpose but out of response, and once I can stop living fist to mouth, the world will see the beautiful wings instead of the sting
YOU ARE READING
Floating
PoetryI've collected a lot of works I have made for me and thrown them into a mess of empathic poetry I have done for others.
