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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
When friends do stupid things to themselves and you can't help

Submitted: November 10, 2006

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Submitted: November 10, 2006

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A A A


My hand always finds

Its way to my hip

In the night time.

I lie awake, and feel the protrusion.

I'm not sure what your answer

Would mean, if I were to ask you.

When, in January, I embraced you,

You nearly snapped in my arms.

I don't think you meant it,

It was just too hard to eat.


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