Abandon free falling
through guilt self worth doubt lying heart woe all self inflicted how my hand harms myself Poor broken ballerina you never got to dance or tango. All you wanted ash on tongue and splinters in eye. Can you breathe? How tight the diaghram hurting to squeeze life in. Have you been slowly dying since the failed suicide attempt at fifteen? The answer unrequited. |
AuthorPenelope Jane Jones. Archives
July 2019
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