Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2016
Your blue eyes are ice cold
Frost bitten veins
Numbing the thought of your resting head on my pillowcases
I don't feel a thing

And maybe we're all a little burnt out
Pinched nerves voices shout
Inside my head this
Roller coaster is only going up
Anticipation
And
Regret
Swim inside my plastic cup
Theresa Marie
Written by
Theresa Marie
329
   Scotty
Please log in to view and add comments on poems