Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2010
My words, defiant, deny me;
they speak in low voices
on dark porches, lose me
in strange cities;

they forget the warmth
of my mouth.

Eyeing me suspiciously,
smug with voweled virtue,
they dismiss my attempts
at reconciliation, saying only

We don't even know who youΒ areΒ *anymore.
Marsha Singh
Written by
Marsha Singh
Please log in to view and add comments on poems