High school high,
from over there.
Mechanical hips,
wire hair.
Low count sheets,
cigarette burns.
All alone,
I have learned.
Initiate
what you will,
we chase love
until it's killed
****** winds
across my room
as I sleep,
my body blooms
On repeat,
my hurt is blue
don't feel bad
you can hurt me, too.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 1:10 AM UTC
High school high,
from over there.
Mechanical hips,
wire hair.
Low count sheets,
cigarette burns.
All alone,
I have learned.
Initiate
what you will,
we chase love
until it's killed
****** winds
across my room
as I sleep,
my body blooms
On repeat,
my hurt is blue
don't feel bad
you can hurt me, too.
Request permission to use this poem