melissaahowells
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usually I feel better
mostly only afterwards writing is akin to an aching an opening up of the wound a blood-letting to release poisons into torrents of words disappointment frustrations everyday hurts they take their toll some poisons are more effective because they seem to choose me why do I let them chose? who in their right mind would choose poison its not as if almonds improve the complexion of the mind but here is my sweet sip a-bubble in its pretty blue cup the one with swaying blue willows drinking it up for me really isn't much of a choice why then would I even choose? LEGAL copyright for this poem and also for this writer and also for this legally copyrighted site Title: Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World. 7:23am pst after one very long night Vote for this poem |
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