white

pale sickness you're white as a sheet draining illness your clammy white skin rots deathly light the diseased white sun will bleach your bones after the doves pick them clean sickly white your cracked teeth clatter out of your skull dominos in a dead white jar trembling hands the color of spoiling milk carefully cradle an almost translucent infant mother and child both far too weak to feed the only thing that grows here is decay white mold thrives on your hoarded white bread while outside the safety of the white picket fence there is not a single soul who does not recognize the white of an unburied skeleton under a full moon

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Written by

cain-arkay

30 / Genderqueer / American

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