Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2016
On my fingernails
there’s chipped-off red.
I’m tipped off my axis, don’t
ask me what’s in my head.
I just painted them
so I couldn’t see the dirt underneath.

If you ignore the parts that you’re sure
are just the worst- can’t be a
true reflection of you- it hurts.

There’s a difference between
an eraser and a curtain.
Within, it’s too much.
Mary Correia
Written by
Mary Correia
197
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems