Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2012
Bleeding out your scabs until the scars define you.
Your sighs confine you; itching to disperse.
Your spark is pity but the
dance of the flame exposes you.
The burn ignites upon you alone.
Even your shadows flee,
the drink awaits the final flood.
In death may you find your calling.
Written by
Jacqueline
Please log in to view and add comments on poems