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...