Poems from TheNorthernCrown
These sounds bubble out of people’s mouths
But no sound is the same –
Some fill the room with it
Others are high-pitched
Short intakes of...
I am what I was molded into
From the time I was born
I had people press their ideals
Into my skin
Until I had bruises they called
Unique...
It starts off with a tremble in my fingertips.
The tremors crawl up my arms
To my shoulders and down
Where they snake around my rib cage...