Get on all fours and drag yourself to the summit.
if knew that I cannot be pushed in any form much less shocked
would you try and obliterate the boundaries
till I bent
further away from you
a small vanity mind tries belief
im ahead of you in all ways
yes I've adapted celestially
this rose coloured skin puppet
deals in beats of bloodied centres
my neutrons are as connected to the universe
as I am to freedom.
YOU ARE READING
Salad Days
PoetrySad poems from sad and angry times. Written from a juvenile time (14 years old) to older. That's what you get when you leave a teen to ponder reality. A pen hits reality harder than high school survival. Original Art from Vivianne Rheaume
