Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2017
my fingers bleed after touching your skin.
you are made of razor blades,
but i keep coming back for more
your talk is made of cloudy nights
and i drive without headlights.
it's ok
Written by
it's ok  21/F
(21/F)   
393
   Sanjukta Nag and Zero Nine
Please log in to view and add comments on poems