X Marks the Spot | Poems that Suck

The worst part
      is
        when I lie in bed
            at night,
        and I have to stop myself
            from thinking about
                  a (our) 
                    future.

I catch myself, 
     then
      cross my wrists
 over my chest, 
    like a corpse,
       to
         protect
             my
               heart.

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Enter your comment here...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Email (required) (Address never made public)

Name (required)

Website

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Google account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )

Cancel

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Leave a Reply Cancel reply