When you are dying
your body adapts
to revive itself.
I think by sleeping
with my toxic boy,
drinking my parent's alcohol,
and smoking anything I could
my body, brain, and muscles
were all working together to
simply do their job
and try to bring me back
to life.
YOU ARE READING
Humanity Soup
PoetryThese are poems that were rejected by my unimpressed creative writing teacher. The content of these poems are true. If there are any questions or remarks, please feel free to share them. Enjoy.
