Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2017
I really hate that everyone looks like pieces of you.  
Skinny hands, ***** fingernails, thinning hair and yellow skin.
Stomach acid bubbles up and the bitter taste of your lying words surfaces on my tongue.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand tall when the stench of your black stain, lingers, unwashable, even when I bleach myself to death to rid myself of your impurities, you goblin.
You have given me no satisfaction, let me live loosely,
I would crawl a mile to you, knees bleeding, pleading you to release me,
Remove the destructive fear of looking any man in the eye anymore.
You don't exist but in a stale memory of a time I wanted to go back to someday.

But not today.
#you(I) cant win #moniqueisblue
Monique Matheson
Written by
Monique Matheson  26/F/Arizona
(26/F/Arizona)   
179
   Lior Gavra
Please log in to view and add comments on poems