Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
gravel shovel dig the earth with nails and teeth and huddle in puddles of pain and insecurity we're brain dead you hate it our words are mud and sticks and stones and you cant feel them clawing at your skin and bones and you keep peering out into the souls of everyone of every mold that broke before one broke with you and in this sameness sea we drift another face another place to die as strangers often do.
0
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 12:30 AM UTC
ghosts in our bellies
gravel shovel dig the earth with nails and teeth and huddle in puddles of pain and insecurity we're brain dead you hate it our words are mud and sticks and stones and you cant feel them clawing at your skin and bones and you keep peering out into the souls of everyone of every mold that broke before one broke with you and in this sameness sea we drift another face another place to die as strangers often do.
airi-eyes
Written by
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 12:30 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem