top of page
Search
  • Writer's pictureM.

I was a man

Oh, to spend

long nights oozing

on the floor,

sliding

ceramic tiles

grasping

and feverish


To be a man is

tiresome

a pale ghost

turning

afraid of

judging mirrors


On the good days

ever grinding

the struggle

the book says

on the good days

sweat is honey


On the bad days

brother,

the choker is tight

I can’t breathe


I was a man

I was a man and never a grub





18 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Comments


bottom of page