Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2019
You wanted to say
something, I was paper
and I was the ink.

Give me your dark
robe, I will stitch the moon
against the rainfall.

Last night it was a
blood soaked fight between
two smoking eyes.
Written by
Satsih Verma
102
   ---, Chelsea Rae and Lot
Please log in to view and add comments on poems