Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2014
My hands grow numb
and tingle from standing
still all the time.  And even
though my heart pounds in
my chest loud enough to be
heard three rooms over,
my body won’t leave this
bed. I know all of this is my
own fault, but I’d still like to
blame it on you if you’ll let me.
Miranda Lopez
Written by
Miranda Lopez  Chicago, IL/Missoula, MT
(Chicago, IL/Missoula, MT)   
369
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems