I'm a skeleton.
My bones, fragile as my nonexistent breath.
My heartbeat, close to silence,
and my thoughts...
none.
Where was my skin?
My thumping livelihood?
Where is it?
Would you still pick up
what is left of me?
No... you had already thrown me away.
- Counting Sheep
YOU ARE READING
Fairy Dreams
PoetryIt all started with you... *All poems are created and owned by me. Should anyone use my material without permission, it can lead to severe legal disputes and potential infringement claims*
