drink the poison that is me—
scratch the paper till it bleeds the ink i so harshly wrote into it.
savor my words of heartbreak and misery,
the few that have turned into joyful memories.
swallow the bitter taste of my emotions,
and wait as it gets stuck on your throat.
you'll tear up and gasp for air.
silly boy,
don't you know?
ink isn't edible.
YOU ARE READING
𝗣𝗼𝗲𝘁 𝗠𝗲 𝗔 𝗣𝗼𝗲𝗺
Poetrya collection of letters, poems, and short stories from deep within, a little addiction with it too; welcome to the emotions of the awkward teenage time we all once had.
