My lips tremble
The cold
Like needles in my bonesYou said you held me
in your heartBut I think this is torture
Because your heart
Is beyond cold
Beyond frozenIce crystals
Like razor bladesI don't want to be here
I don't want this
Whatever it is
Because it sure as hell
Not loveNo love I have heard of
Leaves my hands blue
And my lashes whiteAnd This trembling
This sharp exchange of breath
Can't be rightMother
I know you keep holding on
But I'm screeming goodbey~brokenglasseye
YOU ARE READING
Defective Product(Complete).2
PoesíaPoems by a defective humman searching for an outlit threw poetry.