i throw heavy things at mirrors,
hear the perfect fifths in the breaking glass.
i open umbrellas indoors
to ward off my river eyes.
i walk under ladders and burn bridges
("i'm just bad luck, i guess," you said.)
because now you're gone.
hello guys! this is the last poem of gilded age, and i just wanted to thank you all for reading this messy collection. i'm infinitely grateful for the love you've given this collection, because i don't think these poems are anything special half the time.
if you enjoyed gilded age, i have another messy poetry collection of longer poems and an organized collection revolving around the theme of a toxic friendship. i also have a short story collection chugging along. i'd love it if you guys checked those out, too!! :,)
once again, thank you all for reading gilded age, it means so much to me ♡
YOU ARE READING
GILDED AGE
Poetryall my teeth are gold because of the lies and cockroaches that curl up and sleep inside of them. a collection of short poems. © folsomprison. all rights reserved. published: 10/14/17. completed: 6/25/18.
