Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2016
what the **** is a Nightingale I
know its a bird I
know there Florence Nightingale
and in my abstract mind I
see a bird of the night
sitting upon the chest of my
sick child

she's not plucking her
eyes for food instead
she's giving her Dark
magic from our book

she's nursing Midnight's Children
with kisses as tender
as an obsidian blade
shaving pubescent legs
to a sharp sheen
ready to cut morning's
edge with ebony rage
JoJo Nguyen
Written by
JoJo Nguyen  Baltimore
   Shawna Michele, mickaela and Timothy H
Please log in to view and add comments on poems