Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2016
the ***** of your chin is
gentle
nothing will numb you more
than the epitome of nothingness
soft collared shirts and grey-scale jeans
I feel music in you
like water
abounding with reluctance
here I stand
gently begging you to
be deafening.

chanting silently
we are here we were here
HERE WE ARE

with pale long dancing fingers I am
certain that the end is not near
nor will it ever be
for you
this is not what ur thinking
sweet ridicule
Written by
sweet ridicule
Please log in to view and add comments on poems