the contents of my heart threaten
to spill out onto the carpet
anger bubbles in my throat
while poverty strips me of all
of my worth
because what's a person
without some materialism?
: why can't I be like them?
YOU ARE READING
w i t h e r e d • my poems
Poetrylike a flower devoid of water I withered until I was nothing I just didn't notice that the thieves were those I thought I should be trusting. saltwater travels up my stem drawing the life out of me as my petals fall off and all my dreams are snatche...
