Slits

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 08, 2016

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Submitted: August 08, 2016

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This ones for dad,
that ones for that day, underneath
that one is for my agonising life.

What is this? I hate the life time
that spins around me,
slice the carrot, red as a strawberry.
Let it shed, let it shed.

They burn.
It makes me feel better,
joy, joy, joy.
Tears are shed,
slits, slits, slits, slits
still stay split.

Even when there are no tears around the corner
it still soothes my spirit.
When will it come,
the time when I will be done,
come, come.

slice the carrot.
 


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