these thoughts are why i have no friends
Thursday
poem
strung above the windows
bones, hair, teeth
create a garland
scattered on the living room floor
ashes of the dead
ones who once lived, now dead
all their ashes
as loose teeth make a necklace
cold blood is served
in a coffee mug
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
View mobile version
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment