"It's not proper poetry if it doesn't rhyme"
**** you.
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 8:00 PM UTC
You're so happy to see that they've got burn marks where their nettles were and scars from lost nails
And then they turn around and you see the poison ivy growing up their spine
It's just lonely
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 7:04 PM UTC
A sea of nettles and nails that scream their injustice at you
People who seem like they've shaken off their prickly outsides and their hatred
Turning to congratulate them
Embrace them
Before you find the truth beneath their pillowy covering
Nails can be blunted and nettles can be softened but they remain below your surface,
Waiting for the right moment to be sharpened and grow back their stings
I see your injustice and I raise you my peace
It hurts to tear out your nails and to burn off those nettles
But oh god does it hurt more to walk your tender, soft body through that forest of pain
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 3:36 PM UTC