i keep
spinning
spinning
spinning
and hoping it'll all stop
frozen like peas and attitudes and time
stuck in place
but it doesn't work like that.
i'll just keep spinning
till my legs give out
and the wheels turn their last
revolutions
bored and upset, frazzled cockroaches
crawling along my back
itching
biting
clawing for more of me
there isn't anything else.
i
don't
w a n t
it.
YOU ARE READING
little blue flowers
PoetryA collection of original poetry by Ella Petrichor. Highest Rank: #152 in Poetry (6/14/18) **COMPLETED** ::Excerpt:: "betrayal along the seams" A melancholic pallor lining her face She stood in the doorway Beating the shit out of that old rug As thou...
