this is what it is,
thick-skin rebel hearts cut open
for the novices. dirt on your skin
seemingly endless height
even the dry soul
has seen inside your abyss.
it's cold in there. so, so cold.
ice atria and frosty ventricles
but if i blow out my candle
i can explore your arteries just fine.
YOU ARE READING
motion. | completed
Poetrythis is the backwards story of how i [lost my mind] fell in love. lowercase intended. #83 in poetry | #150 in short story | 14-11-14
