Trite rhyme #2

I'm back in the arms of my open sore again
Alone and undone and remorseful again
Denied and unloved and remiss again
The blankets, the covers, the bed is unmade


xtx said...

geez girl...love that first line.

why is it we never make the bed despite all "again"?

Z said...

Stop picking at the open sore, and make the bed. It might not help your soul much, but at least it'll look tidier.

jereme said...

i really liked this