all of these pieces and yet I still
can not figure out which pieces
belong where, which feelings
they were attached to before
the grown man came in my life
the eighth time around,
intertwining parts of me that
shouldn't be messed with: personality adjustment
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...