I wring my hands
Yours: thick and glued together
With dried blood
Mine: smaller- covered in ink.
I do not kill for you
But
If I am born of the same
tainted fruit
am I not Also poisonous?
YOU ARE READING
We Write for Fear of Silence
Poetry{My soul put into words. Writing is how I put myself back together again. Writing is how I love.} **all poems are mine** HIGHEST RANKING: #30 IN POETRY & #1 IN TEEN POETRY
It has taken me my whole life to write this poem
I wring my hands
Yours: thick and glued together
With dried blood
Mine: smaller- covered in ink.
I do not kill for you
But
If I am born of the same
tainted fruit
am I not Also poisonous?
