Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2014
And while misery is on the tip of your tongue,
Remember that's where my name always used to be.

Remember; when you reach for the stars,
They only ever burn holes in your hands.

And now a choked throat refuses to tell me everything it wants to spew.
But my hands are on your hips though, not your neck.
Jake
Written by
Jake  Colorado
(Colorado)   
299
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems