Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2020
I don't even think about it anymore because it would crush me. it would eat me alive. starting in my gut, dissolving through the fat like acid tossed in someone's face. you'll see right through me like my skin is made of glass. empty greenhouse. bricked windows. only weeds and mold grow here.
CE
Written by
CE  19/M/merrily on high
(19/M/merrily on high)   
71
     CE and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems