Poems from semy_
Blank. The paper im yet to hold
paper. Bandage my sore wounds
hard. Bold. Quality the graphite i take this journey
strokes. Take a line for...
I fucked a man my best Sunday dress
the very Sunday i claimed a curse
the sin of gospel hymns chatter
a sweet delight of sour broth of...
Maybe I've been blessed with complexion
But what is complexion without beauty?
Elfin soul,brace oneself and set off on the wrong direction...