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zac-cPoems
I find that when I'm covered in soap, my mind wonders the most. . . . . Racing down my face is a streak of blood, a betrayal of my body, it longs to feel air because it's jealous of my skin. . . . . He hands me a cigarette, a gesture of friendship which I respectfully decline because time can heal wounds, but it takes more than a few seconds of silence to rekindle a friendship. . . . . The wind clings the blood to my face a reminder of your betrayal and I wish it would go away but It can't, can it? . . . . And the soap washes the red off my face, down the drain shaping my aspirations of flying away.
0
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 5:07 PM UTC
A Betrayal, Soup, and a Plane Ticket
I find that when I'm covered in soap, my mind wonders the most. . . . . Racing down my face is a streak of blood, a betrayal of my body, it longs to feel air because it's jealous of my skin. . . . . He hands me a cigarette, a gesture of friendship which I respectfully decline because time can heal wounds, but it takes more than a few seconds of silence to rekindle a friendship. . . . . The wind clings the blood to my face a reminder of your betrayal and I wish it would go away but It can't, can it? . . . . And the soap washes the red off my face, down the drain shaping my aspirations of flying away.
RERELEASE I'm back baby, this is one of many rereleases too come
zac-c
Written by
zac-c
American
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 5:07 PM UTC
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