My head still hurts,
and I'm too lazy to get up,
so I am using my hands
as an ice cold pack.
My hands are always cold,
so it works just fine,
my bruises are sinking,
my feelings fade away.
My head still hurts,
my eyes want to cry,
everything in me,
screaming to die.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryJust some rants by me. Maybe I'll publish my sucky old ones, maybe I won't. You'll never know.
