Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2021
I seem to forget, the point of his cries
tears paint his face
then the inside of my thighs

Seasoned with intent
I tire of his ways,
an emotional pit
with a never-ending say
Orchid
Written by
Orchid  20/F/England
(20/F/England)   
122
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems