Nothing Special

Tue, 02/25/2014 - 20:33 -- jsurbs1

With plum painted walls and hair covered pillows

She sits in a bed hunched with the purest pain

She ran out of fingers to count on

and now there are no distractions.

Sweaty palms and salty cheeks

Cracked knuckles and pouty lips.

She feels nothing, as if nothing is an emotion

Finally quiet and cold

She lies on a bed full of weight

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741