Too little memories exist
When I was two
Often I recall lights
In my hazy view
Tart and biting smoke of a cigarette
Escaped from both parents' breath
Rough hands of my own
Rips in my flesh
Or maybe they would call me
Rightly
A two-year-old terror at best...
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My Life Poetically-Dressed
PoésieThis is a collection of poetry I wrote about each year of my life. Some years will have more than one poem. I know this platform is mostly for novels and such, but I felt like receiving feedback on my poetry. I hope you can feel heard, seen, and l...
