If needle and thread
I am ivory instead
Got fusion in lead
Can’t forget what you said
Can’t get words outta my head
Wish I wasn’t feeling dead
Then I wouldn’t feel this dread
I’m so lonely I’m avoiding bed
It’s like I’m looking at my own death
Exhaling cold breath
And more skin to shed
It’s like I’m looking at my own bed
© Delia Ross. 2021 / @poeeternal
Haven’t been able to sleep in my bed since I learned my dad died in his.
The floor. The couch. No sleep at all. But fuck that bed. I don’t want any part of it.
We’re talking wha… uhhh… 3 months or so of me avoiding my bed.
To be honest, I haven’t found any place yet worth dying…
Mars maybe. In fact. It’d be worth the adventure.
Better than dying in a fucking bed.
That’s the dream, eh? 😏
I’m ready to board off my bedroom.
Put up a no entry sign.
One response to “Ivory”
Bed = Death trap