Poems from BrennaYap

I secretly write poems. If my friends knew, they would make fun of me. Therefore, this is my outlet. Enjoy.
On the Touching of the Soul
Their eyes trace my skin Like fingers on a page. Their words find my ear With laughter coarse as sandpaper. The whistles echo In the din of...
I Am
I am not. I am not an object. I am not a stereotype. I am not a possession. I am not mindless. I am not weak. I am. I am a person. I am an...