i am a sin eater
my palms stained black
from holding the hands of the wicked
i am a sin eater
with the ice of my fingers
and the soul-deep secrets
i conceal within my heart
i am a sin eater
swallowing down all the darkness
in the eclipsing world
with such frequency that
it now fills my lungs
and i fear i am not the only one who will drown
YOU ARE READING
collections of constellations and the stars || poetry collection
Poetrypoems often written at midnight, each telling its own story. an anthology of sorts. grammatically incorrect use of lowercase is an aesthetic choice and intentional. |incomplete|
