Wax - Serita Mckenzie
Beneath me I feel anger lurking, this recognizable pang that sets fire to me, so I write a poem. My words ball up inside of me, a fist that is constantly opening and closing, and I'm concerned that if I release them with the intensity they strike me with, will the language burn the reader, too? I can't go on with these words and thoughts scorching my mind, a tiny tealight candle melting through the very thoughts that lit it. Other than the inferno, my mind is plain, infested with usual thoughts.
ฝึกที่คำคมนี้
แก้ไขข้อความ
หรือเพียงแค่ให้ความคิดเห็น:
