deepundergroundpoetry.com
My Soul
Ripping
Tearing
My soul dripping
from my wrists.
You put it
in your drawer,
put away for now.
Until our next encounter,
when you can force my soul back into me,
just to watch it drip from my wrists again.
Tearing
My soul dripping
from my wrists.
You put it
in your drawer,
put away for now.
Until our next encounter,
when you can force my soul back into me,
just to watch it drip from my wrists again.
Published 10th May 2011
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The author encourages honest critique.
11th Jan 2012 10:38am
Imagery of red and more red... At first I thought it was the devil, but when Lucy has your soul, she doesn't give it back. So who is this Phlebotomist of spiritual torture that makes you suffer so?
And you can earn extra credit for the writer of the subject line...
jj
And you can earn extra credit for the writer of the subject line...
jj
16th Jan 2012 4:34am
16th Jan 2012 4:56am
