poetry allows me to purge and process. its how I breathe.
Inhibitions have me biting my tongue,treading heavy on my heart,I am made from golden silk and honey,My skin dripping in gold, and brown, slenderbut I hate the sight of myself, cannot look at myself twice,I embody pain,this patter of sadness which seems to be embedded deep into this velvet skinI hold myself like a broken […]