Fragile
You and I are a bomb
Waiting to implode
Not sure who has the detonator
But were a catastrophe in the making
In our story whose the narrorator
When were both fighting over the wheel
Two alphas turn into an omega
I want an ear to turn to and a hand to hold
Your touch is colder than ice
And your suggestions are more like ridicule
Leaving me stranded in this cold existence
👁 2💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.