Its quater to 1 in the morning
Im sitting here jealous
Jealous of the ice that skaters dance on
Jealous of the candles as i too wish to burn
Jealous of the pigs being slaughtered
Jealous of the hollow bones that lie in the dirt
I want to fill myself with poison
My lungs with smoke
My brain with alcohol
My skin with scars
My stomach with emptiness
But for now i just sit here jealous
Hoping that soon i disappear
YOU ARE READING
poems by me
PoetryJust a bit of poetry I've written over a few years so dont judge it too harshly. Plus it does get better as you go on (in my opinion). PLEASE LOOK AT THIS BEFORE READING!!!! If you know me in real life and choose to read this please dont show people...
