Guilt,
All these empty,
Hollow shells
Scraped nails
Dirty toes
Sprits of water
Frozen in the hose
My voice is scratchy
My legs are weak
I want someone to carry me,
But I like carrying someone else
Can we take turns?
My hair is long
My thoughts are muddled
Sleepy eyes and restless hands
Leaves of sand
And grains of clover
I don't even understand
YOU ARE READING
Endogenous
PuisiA poetry collection. Some chapters are dedicated to people for voting, commenting, etc. Highest Ranking: #137 in Poetry
