Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2012
My fingertips are peeling
where they touched your skin.
Is it wrong to find comfort in the living?
To hide away in a moving pulse?
The only salt you've spilled
is for yourself.
And I'm in love with everyone else.
This is our dilemma.
D Lep
Written by
D Lep
441
     abcdefg and D Lep
Please log in to view and add comments on poems