Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2017
My hands they glitter white
They haven't touched sunlight
within the week

My skin's surface is tight
The blood does not feel right--
am I a freak?

In colors bold and bright
My pale shell could ignite...
what do I seek?

To feel free flying fright
Unleash the silver night
And hear Her speak.
Written by
Yozhik  20/US
(20/US)   
335
   Spectre
Please log in to view and add comments on poems