Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2013
Under the steam and jets of pressure
I held my face to my hands
And created a pressure from muscle
Bone to muscle
And various tissues in between
Leading to flesh
Pressing against flesh

I wanted to remold my face
To change my appearance

I can't explain it
I think I'm sick
And no, this is not
Pre-teen melodramatic ****

I mean sick
I'm dripping ink
Drowning in sin.
I don't know where up is
Or where to begin...
I hate this, but it's nonetheless true.
M Clement
Written by
M Clement  Oregon
(Oregon)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems