Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2014
crackling, burning skin, itch.

Mine iris, Mine, Irene.
The swing in the dark, a spot light.
But dulling, finally, dulling.
A can in your pocket for later, where you might need to destroy a memory.
Are you carrying me later? when i can't see.
Ailish Ryan
Written by
Ailish Ryan
417
   Stephen Reid
Please log in to view and add comments on poems