Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2017
My eyes are painted the color of my dying flesh to kindly remind my reflection that it will get rest in the end.
My veins are constant reminders of times when I shared blood and broke flesh.
Please don't mind my voice -- I swear it sounds best to the dead.
I'm sorry if I have vocalized too much regret, but I knew that you would be listening alone in bed.
Leo
Written by
Leo  32/M/Massachusetts
(32/M/Massachusetts)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems