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Nathaniel
Poems
May 2023
Fruit flies
The stench that lifts me off my feet,
****, lining the underneath of finger nails-
a firm handshake with a suit.
Paints my palm black,
I go finger painting on my keyboard.
Stupid remarks, a buzz in my ear.
I breath in the dust of coffee,
fill my lungs with communal light,
bring my face to the back of my skull.
Addicts fill up the floor space.
Aroused to keep by their merits,
they holy few who look only down.
Written by
Nathaniel
22/M/US
(22/M/US)
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