Call it emotional scurvy
after a diet of nothing good
that every wound thought healed
unraveled in my blood
and scars thought past and
survivable look
like I have been through
the wringer again and
gums softened, claws curled
my weakness apparent to the world,
see in this my past pain.
Jesus be a fucking orange,
someone, feed my life.
1 comment:
good, again
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