My pointer finger
Has a gash from the blender
And the inside of
My knuckles
Have blisters from the barbellAnd yet you trace my fingers anyways
My lips are chapped from coughing
And I threw up earlier
While I ranAnd yet you kiss my gently anyways
I tell you you'll get sick
And I'm scared
My hands are coarseAnd yet you love my anyways
(05/12/22)
YOU ARE READING
[p o e t r y]
Poetry***PSA- PLEASE TAKE TIME TO READ MY MOST RECENT ADDITIONS TO THIS POETRY SAGA. I've been writing in this poetry journal since 2016 and they do get progressively better and more insightful.*** thank you carry on: These poems contain snippets of my...