Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2021
It is not with the palm of my hand,
nor the skin pressed against it.
I crumble under the worry that is the bones -
it’s the bones that cannot stand the weight.
Ghosts in the Machine. Message free.
Ayeglasses
Written by
Ayeglasses  Seattle Born/São Paulo
(Seattle Born/São Paulo)   
133
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems