Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2016
I dreamt that wax
sqeezed out from my ears
like toothpaste.
Dripped onto my feet
casting a mold.
Statuing my legs.
Zipping up my hips.
I dreamt my throat
was a metal pipe
running dry.
Vibrating echoes
cut short and
replaced with a dusty ellipsis.

Passively shrinking
inside a shell
that I'll never be
strong enough to crack.

How did this happen?
How did the thing we're made of
become the thing to **** us?
Tiffany Norman
Written by
Tiffany Norman  Houston, TX
(Houston, TX)   
1.2k
   Lior Gavra
Please log in to view and add comments on poems