or sign in with e-mail
by Poet on the Piano Jul 28, 2020 category : Miscellaneous / Misc. poems
I'm always cleaning leftover dishes - the milk stained and stale, bits and pieces of you rotting at the bottom. You say you provided a sturdy roof over our heads; why then, do I see skinned carcasses dangling from the ceilings? If I leave, you'll say I'm selfish. If I stay, I'll eventually die here, not by your direct hand but by the toxins you calmly fed me. Was I brought into this landfill only to resolve everyone's messes except my own?
by Poet on the Piano
by Star
by Sunshine