The back of my eyes feel wet,
And the hot-cocoa after sledding,
Warmth in my chest wont go away.
My head feels magnetized to my stomach,
With my nose pulling my head downward.
My hair irritates my skull,
As the clammy underside of my skin,
Grips who I am,
My very essence,
In a death vice
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 11:34 PM UTC
The back of my eyes feel wet,
And the hot-cocoa after sledding,
Warmth in my chest wont go away.
My head feels magnetized to my stomach,
With my nose pulling my head downward.
My hair irritates my skull,
As the clammy underside of my skin,
Grips who I am,
My very essence,
In a death vice
Request permission to use this poem