Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2018
picking at imperfections like the pimples on my face
now each bite leaves a sour taste
bitter moments tipping on my tongue
smoke filled air trapped inside my lungs
black and white are the only colors i see
i can't even hear the ground underneath my feet
my soul has lost its senses to live
i have lost everything, what is there left to give
LC
Written by
LC  F/Canada
(F/Canada)   
  298
   ---, Fawn, Perry and Me Díaz
Please log in to view and add comments on poems