Coffee is on the stove
There’s a warm glow
And the nightmare from my dreams below
Hanging from my halo
A rock would be softer than this pillow
I’m too low

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Copyright © 2025 Delia Ross /@poeeternal. All rights reserved.

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P.S.

It’s that time of the month again. Where my mood shifts like a pendulum. Can’t handle where I’ve been. It’s just my blood darling.

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Can’t believe people didn’t take better care of their bloodlines.

I’m crying all the time, putting in the overtime, won’t cost you a dime.

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Happy dying. Oh stop lying.

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I dunno if this is an insult but it’s likely why you’ll never hear me boo’d off stage or attempting open mic cuz that’s exactly what this slam poetry was –

Thank you?

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I just think it’s funny I quit posting after that comment. I mean how many straws?

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No I don’t have thick skin. Poe died naked out his mind on the street darling.

CHILDSPLAY

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I mean same same

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It’s not like Victoria even liked it…

“Bad press is good press” (for the narcissist)

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At least it got 390 views

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