Dancing under florescence
Past furnitures
Past fixtures
Past my parents
Passing time
Twirling with swirling dust motes
Echoing music in my head
Reverberating through the caverns
Inside my bones
Vibrating
Singing
Ringing
Inside my bones
Inside my bones
I am left nothing.
That became something.
YOU ARE READING
Labyrinth
PoetryPoems I made during quarantine. A poem compilation about eating, sleeping and other things. I don't know what I have created. Read at your own risk.
