7:34 pm, Monday, 15th May
fingertips cold and blue to the touch,
crimson does not flow beneath my pale skin.
A heart that drums against an ivory cage,
there is an absence of calmness within me.
YOU ARE READING
dysphoria
Poetrysilent pleas from a heart that's been tainted blue, a mind that ripples in constant turmoil and a mouth that remains shut //
