Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2020
my throat is numb from smoke unfiltered

from borrowed squares to bodies considered

I am a night trick, a weekend witch

watch me curse them, watch them twitch

boys and girls both fall for the con
upon sunrise, the witch is gone

and in my wasteland, they’ll stay buried below
I’ll one day mourn,
when the daisies grow
Written by
Abbey
  125
     Yvonne Han, Imran Islam, Rose, X, misha and 2 others
Please log in to view and add comments on poems