Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2014
My nail polish
peels
like wallpaper
on a dead house

and i suppose
thats
what i am
a dead house

decrepit and torn
broken
down and old
from 16 years

of broken mentality
***
******-manically wanted
Lips, Hips, thighs.

But what if thats
gone
and my wallpaper is
peeling like ripe fruit
Written by
Miki  25/Genderqueer/USA
(25/Genderqueer/USA)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems