Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2013
This skin is alive,
but I wish it were rotting
beneath the soil,
roots forming between
my rib cage,
rain draining the blood
from my veins,
birds stealing hair for
their chickadees pillows,
insects burrowing behind
old kneecaps.

*This life has no meaning so I give my life to those who could use it.
Written by
Elise  NYC
   Sadie, ---, --- and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems