let me compare you to the thickest water.
and tell you that your touch is as soft
and as lapping as the tides touching sand
Let me tell you
In all meanings of the word that I am washed.
I am washed.
I am washed.
I am washed.
-
I code my love in ways you won't understand.
I refuse to give the words I say meaning.
Because
You are spitting into my palm again.
I only wipe it on the
parts of me that tell me I care
So I can remember what those words
tasted like when they were thrown at me
They were never sweet.
/me remembering the good
me remembering the bad/
YOU ARE READING
Untitled Anthology for the 20 somethings
PoetryMoulding myself into something I'm not. a love letter to all the sweetly gorey things and afflictions that are a part of being a young adult like love, insecurities and vulnerability in 15 parts. Image: "Connected, Communicating" Noah Kocher.
