Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2016
This pain
All encompassing
A strange filth
That I can't wash off
I mean how
How could I possibly
Ever see
All of those buildings
All of those hallways
All of those streets
That library
Without instantly melting
Into the ground
Where I belong
Where my purpose lies

I am the abelias
A pain so great even the panic runs away.
Isabela Ramos
Written by
Isabela Ramos  Nashville
(Nashville)   
219
   Rhet Toombs
Please log in to view and add comments on poems