rip it out of me.
the mess of vines that tangle my throat choke each emotion in my body like the lamb whose legs I snap still forcing it to carry me I swear im sorry but I let you crumble underneath the weight of my skin there's healing within arm's reach but I prey with guillotine and chop upon your fingers so you'll never feel again.
Ad
Poetry Books 50% Off
Bestselling collections from top poets
Shop Now →
