Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 12
the concessions
in past lives of dusks
and ****** mess
the contorted skull
left alone
where we grip off that chicks haste
to run into rain again
my jackets
all time
the fold of ireland grows, it grows
taken care of
the nother place you jumped on
Written by
kevin  44/M/california
(44/M/california)   
40
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems