My tale bone was perspiring
nails trying to carve crescent units
cutting off my fate lines
jaw interlocked, rooted,
restricting my voice
the bangs covered my face
as I gasped,
begging, let me breathe
but they didn't even know,
that they were chocking me.
-She addressed his concerned eyes with quivering lips.
YOU ARE READING
THE GIRL WHO SPOKE POETRY
PoetryThe thing about pain is, it makes you question.. what makes you human? ____________ **Not cliche, I repeat, Not cliche, WARNING, not cliche**
