A mirror reflecting each side of me-
is my right better than my left?
I mutter through a critical eye,
bones carved a skeletal figure.
I paint how I feel between each rib,
Stain the blood on each page,
Hollow cheeks; full,
An obsession with what remains of me
.
.
.
The sun my shadow in the night.






when u go on plz leave a message plzzzzzzzzzzzz



17 old applause
