SITTING so little is so… This little
would-be bride in a Kind of cellophane
yellow-red candy dress
like misery reaching
its hand tearing fine
garments of feelings I am becoming
millions of broken shards of
eyes that find me so disgusting
blue windows – pink rooftops
dirt, sunrises,sewage ditches
and the petals of picked dying flowers
upon my refrigerator ~~ (i use to have purpose)
My eyes still blind from prehistoric light
while the screams and moans of assaulting life
rant through Gotham! With no voice!
:: 06-11-2015 ::
rev: 07102020
E.P. Robles | Poetry 