Sunday, November 16, 2014

oldoldold poem but i kinda like it

Let the cold erase me
blot out my imperfections
mute my murmurs

with the
steady fall of
safety-scissor cutouts
I’ll disappear

As the minutes twirl
like snowflakes
cover me
in sheets of white
in empty silence

I’m going,
but no one will know I’ve gone


No comments:

Post a Comment