A poem for My Grandmother
Seats were made for sitting
Words were made for speaking
How come when you open your mouth
I'm underground
Buried alive by your breath
Trying to speak
But I'm way too deep
YOU ARE READING
Philophobia
PoetryAssorted 100% original poetry pieces. Also some random excerpts from small stories (also original). Philophobia: (n.) a fear of love, falling in love WARNING: Indirect and direct references to sexual assault, depression, self-harm and suicide
