hush a bye baby,
you're almost dead.
you don't have a pulse
and your pillow is red.
your family hates you,
your friends let you bleed.
sleep tight with a knife,
because it's all that you need.
-k.d.
YOU ARE READING
life as we know it
PoetryBeing a poet is like being really sick. But instead of vomit, words come out. This is my word vomit.