Jan 2016
They carve away my saccharine heart,
arteries and all,
leaving behind a peach pit
encased in cyanide walls
The sugar would have killed me -
the sentimentality cementing me in the past
They meant to set me free,
but there is little worse
than choking on my own apathy
arteries and all,
leaving behind a peach pit
encased in cyanide walls
The sugar would have killed me -
the sentimentality cementing me in the past
They meant to set me free,
but there is little worse
than choking on my own apathy
why do i keep writing this same poem???? i have like three others that are almost exactly this. hell, i know i've posted at least one of them on here. it's getting frustrating
