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Kira Ferguson
Poems
Jun 2014
Wasted
I juiced the oranges
That grew from my limbs
And poked holes to drain sap from my shins
With needles and pins
You suckled from the fruit
Forbidden, it be
And leached life from this succulent tree
No scrapes on your knees
Tangled vines sprouted up
Took hold on my throat
And my small branches, one by one broke
Along with my hope
Do not follow me, dear
Into these woods, thick
The darkness will creep up on you quick
It's only a trick
6, 5, 9, 5
Written by
Kira Ferguson
Vancleave
(Vancleave)
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