If I open
my skull
for you,
will you
behead
me?
Between a heart undersea
and a mind full of flea,
which one is more
tragic;
dying
or living
as a havoc?
-h i r a y a.
YOU ARE READING
1:11
PoetryBetween sunsets and sunrises are a bunch of poems that may mean nothing or may mean everything. Between sunsets and sunrises I am not afraid of the dark, I am fond of it. Part II of The Zeros. Made it to the wattys shortlist!
