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Sep 2020
My mom, with the green
witch's casual, sour malice,  
can verbally ****.

But she is easily
deceived by disguise
- my body is a mask.

My submission is
but a costume - my calm
the offered lie.

I detest my own
pale, small, adolescent
answers - my weakness.
OK, we had a fight - we made up - but before that... poetry!  =]
Anais Vionet
Written by
Anais Vionet  20/F/U.S.
(20/F/U.S.)   
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