Me

Mon, 02/24/2020 - 19:09 -- 337808

My heart is like an icicle.

My fingers are like icy tendrils reaching out of the darkness.

My eyes are freezing blue oceans you could easily drown in.

My mouth is as red as blood seeping out of a wound.

My heart holds a coldness that is black as an endless abyss.

I live in a madhouse filled with murderers and they eat nails.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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