Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2018
The sentence looks like someone who's sibling I used to be,
smells like sand and Pepto Bismol.
and is wet and warm and sticky.
As it sounds like a gun shot in an apartment in Virginia,
The sentence whispers to me a time of death.
I despise being the next of kin at a funeral filled with people I do not know
Written by
Ansley  Non-binary
(Non-binary)   
1.1k
     Perry, PamCom and Fawn
Please log in to view and add comments on poems