Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2014
When you look at me that way,
My stomach turns to ice and my thoughts freeze.
I utter a sentence but it sounds from far away
Flames rise in my cheeks as I've said the wrong answer

What a funny thing it is, to be made of both fire and ice
Weary Traveler
Written by
Weary Traveler
484
   Pax
Please log in to view and add comments on poems