your heart is a drum,
it knocks up a beat,
to me
the fear smashes all.
your breath is a getaway car,
it rushes downtown
from you
till the redlights are gone.
don't tell me it's over, it's not, i'm here.
And i'm await on
the sign on a cold mug of beer
that you left 'bout an hour ago.
A barely-shown hint
that appears after hot breath on
my window,
you knew; the streets
are widowed.
What's going on?
he shuts the door, oldest, he sneaks out,
unnoticed.
and afterwards no soul recalls
if he truly was.
everything went downhill at 13
© Copyright: Неттер Линг, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124062005633
Свидетельство о публикации №124062005633
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