deepundergroundpoetry.com
Twacked
Her veins are small, black
I said, “Where’s the old you,
I want her back.”
Pale skin, another track
Her giant pupils say, “She’s
Twacked.”
Her mind and her body will
Always be trapped.
She’s drowning under
Chemicals.
She’s buried under
Tracks.
I said, “Where’s the old you,
I want her back.”
Pale skin, another track
Her giant pupils say, “She’s
Twacked.”
Her mind and her body will
Always be trapped.
She’s drowning under
Chemicals.
She’s buried under
Tracks.
Published 28th Jan 2013
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