Until the others say otherwise. by Anna

Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member

Aug 2013

Look at me*
Tremors wrack my
Tense,
Paranoid form.
There's nothing wrong with you.
My mouth hangs slightly open,
And I believe the man
Who waits patiently
within my head.

Written by

Anna

439

Please log in to view and add comments on poems