Categories
Poetry

Careless Life

Do not touch this softness.

I see you

angrily tearing at her bones,

leave her be.

Dear sweet, peaceful girl.

For she must rest,

she is weary,

must rest, she has been

battered and bruised

by the tentacles of careless,

careless life!

By brookecutler2

Liver of life, lover of everything. đź’•

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