untitled
Thoughts
Bitter and harsh
Like the smell of your father's
Aftershave
You know
What comes
Next
He does
In you
Putting all
His demons
In you
You nurture and feed
Them
Giving birth
To shadows
Of memories
👁 3💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
Comments are closed for this poem.