deepundergroundpoetry.com

fly.

this is hard for the world around us to grasp:
these wildfires raging in our retinas
& the sins we wear like demonic similes
on our tongues- they are not enough.


& i am so fucking sorry for saying i'm sorry.


but, tell me,
what is a young poet(ess) to do
with veins made of kite strings?
Written by DearPoetry
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