Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2016
my tongue soaks in the spit in my mouth like its bathing in acid,
everything begins to burn in my mouth,
but I haven't had anything but water,
and the casual biting of my stubby fingernails,
I feel a little less then dull compared to the angel with greasy hat hair,
my bangs never stood a chance next to her rolled out of bed attire,
I didn't have the grace to pull a look like that off,
or well any look it seemed like,
but he clearly liked her,
and I let him have her,
and I keep the tears inside,
until his silky hair boy and the plain looking girl were gone,
and I weeped damp wet tears,
and felt like every bit of me was as bitter as battery acid,
Cat Fiske
Written by
Cat Fiske  United States
(United States)   
820
     Neon Robinson, medha, Ja and Cat Fiske
Please log in to view and add comments on poems