Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
she is self-destruction in a bottle. she can make fire out of sweat, feel thorns inside her bones, and the importance of this is that, oh baby, the river runs red. time to kick the habit. but she's a broken vessel, and she still sees in black and white. so her body is in overdrive. fingers caress her ****** thighs are you listening? because soon she's going down. a dance with a devil. her needle's clean, her tar is laced, and her throat is sore-she has been drowning. her parents never loved her. her wrist became an answering machine. she is cold- her fingers bruised. traced the stretch marks on her hips she has never been with. only this month did the red turned to white. and by the time she notices she realizes it's too late and she has already made a line on the mirror
0
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 12:13 PM UTC
Red
she is self-destruction in a bottle. she can make fire out of sweat, feel thorns inside her bones, and the importance of this is that, oh baby, the river runs red. time to kick the habit. but she's a broken vessel, and she still sees in black and white. so her body is in overdrive. fingers caress her ****** thighs are you listening? because soon she's going down. a dance with a devil. her needle's clean, her tar is laced, and her throat is sore-she has been drowning. her parents never loved her. her wrist became an answering machine. she is cold- her fingers bruised. traced the stretch marks on her hips she has never been with. only this month did the red turned to white. and by the time she notices she realizes it's too late and she has already made a line on the mirror
jade-m-matelski
Written by
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 12:13 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem