So close to the waves
That my arm hairs have become
Needing the plot they wash to shore
Drowning in the curiosity
That the pictures begin to sell
As they unwind into themselves
Bleeding colors into the rich drywall
Breathing graffiti onto every inch
As I become the center of the winding way
Here I am, lost in forever
Moving upward
The only way time can
- Author: Noah ( Offline)
- Published: April 15th, 2018 22:32
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 51
Comments2
Love this 💜 Thank you
Thank you, I'm glad you like it 🙂
A fine write as a poem, but oohh, I don't fancy an acid trip me self. heehee.
They can be quite frightful lol
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.