by Molly Gerrity, ’16
I am ill
Pallid with the stain of your misguided attention
Like flowers in the winter, soft petals made to be hard and frozen in the snow
I can’t call it bad.
But it’s certainly wrong.
And I need to rest my head on something new
This day is full of traffic and headaches
Slowly permeating my every last breath
My heart is pushing against my ribcage
I am too fragile
And these sheets smell of you
Making it impossible to sleep in this bed
I am consumed Continue reading