Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2017
everything looks gray under moonlight, even
my eyes, my skin
I am hollowed out with grayness
it coats the inside of my ribs like chalk dust
I am an attic
I am a cardboard box
I am an elephant graveyard.
you did not make me clean
you crawled inside me then disintegrated into
dust, to dust, to dust
to dust
esther
Written by
esther
229
   Lior Gavra
Please log in to view and add comments on poems