poetry critical

online poetry workshop

rent free and reckless

windows and pictures are freaking me out
not seeing myself in either any more
so i called you again --
i still have it in me it seems ..
the argument on why i'm unloveable
with my lies tangled up.
these bricks are still made of sand
and our covered homes and the
trash that we live in are one
in the same, like the functioning
half  of  the brain.

9 Aug 17

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(8 more poems by this author)

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