Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2015
I could bleed from these arms,
into my hands,
which once seemed so strong,
drown my prize
in nitrogen and scar tissue
and maybe then I'd be happy
to destroy myself
again.
RMatheson
Written by
RMatheson  Beating tired bones
(Beating tired bones)   
688
     Awesome Annie and Arlo Disarray
Please log in to view and add comments on poems