Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ksenija Ostojić Dec 2024
My wings fracture as you demand what I cannot give,
Images of my form,
though I've whispered no.
In this strange dance, I despise the shell and cherish the soul within—
Yet you remain blind to its glow.

Your eyes seek only bare skin; they dismiss my silent plea.
raw with love May 2014
i want to scream
"come back to me"
until i have no lungs
to breathe

— The End —