16.08.24, or teething

Aug 26, 2024 18:25


I'll bite whatever feeds me

like a teething baby

with the wretched

unforgivable

twist of awareness;

which unendears any intentions

and I scream into the night

until lungs give up

and ears bleed out

because I have yet to learn

the language of

regret.

poem, writing, poems, poetry

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