I miss coming up for air (a freestyle)
Dead
I identify as dead
Red Wine And Regrets
Thanksgiving slightly drunken freestyle
Confession
Confessional
Fragments
Fragments of him
Steel
Regrets and sorrow
Hope Nope
Hope is a dead star
Wanton
People always have the wrong expectations of people they never give a chance to know. And yet we carry that burden.
Apophis
The end of times is upon us and I'm over the bullshit
Prozac
Oh my fucking goddddd, another day, of my two favorite things
Homeless
Where do I put the love?
Last Rites
A poem about love & loss & loving again. Love hurts...
Epitaph
And there upon my epitaph shall say, "died in the womb", for life never existed and the heart was a broken tomb. © Delia Ross. 2019
