Vote

I can hear my bones talking to God, they ask him why he hates us and he says he wrote the fracture lines in our skin with perfect precision, he did not create us with the knowledge to heal. And yet.

Request permission to use this poem

Written by

georgia-marginson-swart

22 / F / English

For You?

Written by

georgia-marginson-swart

22 / F / English

Published: Oct 27, 2019
Time: 1m

Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell georgia-marginson-swart how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

About Blog FAQ Privacy Terms Contact

Explore

Hello PoetryVoting

Write