leave me alone to write the things you couldn't do
leave me to my pen and paper
pages stitched together by the hairs i've raked in frustration
over you
leave me to weave my misery into hope
leave me to my boney fingers and bitten nails
to hold onto what's left of me
and to keep it far from you
2.22.2021
YOU ARE READING
from the wreckage of obsolescence
Romancelove, sex and vulnerability. chapter three of an ongoing collection of poetry by a bisexual woman.
