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OphelicaPoems
I wake to the streaming of tears don't think me down on my luck I am only gently stuck hands begging to be free guided by sirens who sound heavenly the caress of yesterday's misery with a cup halfway filled sitting in the filth waiting to be spilled they aren't friendly these imposters in my body don't take them seriously we used to be apes hanging in the canopies where the waves cannot reach a shared home no more but we climb around getting stuck while losing ground a few less fingers pointless to blame the talking mind completely inhumane the swords hold us high the sky kisses us gently our lord and savior humanity
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Feb 3, 2023
Feb 3, 2023 at 1:48 AM UTC
Wave
I wake to the streaming of tears don't think me down on my luck I am only gently stuck hands begging to be free guided by sirens who sound heavenly the caress of yesterday's misery with a cup halfway filled sitting in the filth waiting to be spilled they aren't friendly these imposters in my body don't take them seriously we used to be apes hanging in the canopies where the waves cannot reach a shared home no more but we climb around getting stuck while losing ground a few less fingers pointless to blame the talking mind completely inhumane the swords hold us high the sky kisses us gently our lord and savior humanity
Ophelica
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Ophelica
32/M
Feb 3, 2023
Feb 3, 2023 at 1:48 AM UTC
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