Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2014
Leeching to a dependent,
I've never been cured by the cold.

I hear the planes flap their wings
and long for them to let me fly
away with them.

"I don't actually own him,
but we're together all the time
so I guess we're friends."

And I'm taking a bath while
I'm still clean,
to burn the follicles off my
creasing forehead.
Peyton Leigh Stille
Written by
Peyton Leigh Stille  Minneapolis
(Minneapolis)   
935
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems