i'm jolted awake from the process
of falling asleep by punch to the face
but it's just your face, your
perfect-to-me face and all
the hauntings that come with it
: them
YOU ARE READING
w i t h e r e d • my poems
Poetrylike a flower devoid of water I withered until I was nothing I just didn't notice that the thieves were those I thought I should be trusting. saltwater travels up my stem drawing the life out of me as my petals fall off and all my dreams are snatche...
