The Dusty Cracks

I don’t know how to clean a house

I’ve tried
I’ve cried
I’ve nearly died

The clothes, the mold, the mirror shows

I don’t know how to let things go

The shoes, the booze, the way you bruise or how it seems we’re born to lose

The dusty cracks, the care I lack, they say for certain my heart turned black

© Delia Ross. 2021 / @poeeternal

Dropped spoken word of this on my TikTok!

Comments are closed.

Website Powered by

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: