Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2020
***** laundry
under aching feet
at 2am
with seven
eight
twelve
unread messages
breaking the silence

empty stomach
but clean teeth
and so many empty pages
in notebooks
scattered in between
used tea bags
and dry rose petals

i add my socks to the mess
and close my eyes
trying to remember
what breathing feels like
"it takes me under
it takes me under, once again"

the mess won, and so i became the mess. because i like shiny things that tell me i'm worth a second thought.

05.21.2020
basil
Written by
basil  20/they/them/the moon
(20/they/them/the moon)   
101
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems