reduce (Remove filter)
I've Been Wrung
Lick your fingers
Every last bit
Bend over
Take the hardest hit
Now, burn
And let me watch
Crumble
On the spot
Twist yourself in knots
I want the final drop
Then,
Become dust
Collapse and shed
Until the last sparkle
Of my Queens head
Is spent
Until the last glimmer
Of her glitter
Has bled
You belong to me
I own your soul
That is how
You line
Every pocket
With gold
Friday 18th September 2020 9:44 am
Recent Comments
Yanma Hidayah on Not Every Eye
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Elementary
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Five Essential Pillars Of Life
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Weekly WalkaboutsVerse, E.G., Poem 40 of 230: EFFICIENCY
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Not Every Eye
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Seismic Activity
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Stats (To be continued)
2 hours ago
John Coopey on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
11 hours ago
Yanma Hidayah on Not Every Eye
12 hours ago
Holden Moncrieff on Not Every Eye
14 hours ago