Chelsea Smiles and the Pleasure of Poetry

The aesthetic of 

Ink on paper

And floral words 

Leaving my cracked and bleeding lips

 

Calms the earthquakes

That tear through my fragile being

 

And wipes the waterfalls

That flow from these barren eyes

 

Better than anything else

In the late and early hours

 

When you are Schrodinger’s cat

More dead than alive

 

And the wilted words

That bleed from my wounded lips

Become rosy ink on crumpled paper

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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