Caste Poem by Ana Podarevska
Caste
dissect the disease in my veins
withering pupils follow the trail of your thoughts.
please fix the broken stitches on my mouth
that let me say such naive words.
with naive thoughts causing naive wounds,
slap me with a handful of reality.
and choke me with the truth in your hands.
i want to be pushed over the edge,
i want to snap out of this caste.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
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5/7/2024 10:28:03 AM # 1.0.0.1119
