Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Floors frigid like ice against my bare legs. I count ten speckles per tile At least one-hundred tiles per stall but it’s hard enough to focus. Paper rolled in ***** that can’t seem to hold their shape Unraveling. Lead scraped against stone making everything dull gray. Names scribbled over. The lock screams as it slides to the right of the door. Seemingly mocking. Three large, cracked mirrors stare unyieldingly through me. Five minutes ‘till class.
0
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 2:21 PM UTC
first floor bathroom
Floors frigid like ice against my bare legs. I count ten speckles per tile At least one-hundred tiles per stall but it’s hard enough to focus. Paper rolled in ***** that can’t seem to hold their shape Unraveling. Lead scraped against stone making everything dull gray. Names scribbled over. The lock screams as it slides to the right of the door. Seemingly mocking. Three large, cracked mirrors stare unyieldingly through me. Five minutes ‘till class.
currin
Written by
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 2:21 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem