Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2017
No, mother, I am not
The fairy tale girl with vipers sliding from her throat;
But rather, the vipers coil
In the pit of my stomach where my anger would rot;
So I dip my words in their poison
Lest it eats a hole in my skeleton;
Lest the world should see
The viper's nest inside of me.
lenore
Written by
lenore
808
   karin naude and Autumn Rose
Please log in to view and add comments on poems