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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Other · #1229156
I wrote this poem about moving again.
Memories flooding back to the warm obnoxious feeling in the depths of my intestines, churning, looking around at the triangular shapes and dull or worn colors all around. Holding fast for the scars of the soon to be past.
My security blanket has left me now.
i open the door to a new life, to new sounds, and feelings, and horridness.
The lude and crude gather here... waiting for the "list" that will corrode their lives in upcoming months.
He drops to his knees, hes done.
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