My Heart is a rag
wrung too dry.
Fingers ran-
wolves through my cloth-
claws slashing fibers,
fangs mutilating strands.
Tag worn from the
taxes of existence.
She twisted me, until
I collapsed on myself.
All to discard me, one day,
with the rest of the trash.
wrung too dry.
Fingers ran-
wolves through my cloth-
claws slashing fibers,
fangs mutilating strands.
Tag worn from the
taxes of existence.
She twisted me, until
I collapsed on myself.
All to discard me, one day,
with the rest of the trash.