Untitled Poem by Jordan Jinx

Untitled



feel the bits of paper skin
with every line hidden
in a little purple tin
worthless babyface
can't you see the rips in your jeans
are so similiar to the rips on your thighs
the ones you made the week they made you cry
sweet little cupcake
with stitches for a sky

dripping orange paint
on the walls that watch you every day
you try to cheer them up
the shadows in those dark corners
telling you,
'singular times, these times.'
breathe deeply even when you're choking
the woman on the street
with the heels that click
and the bleeding feet
she knows how your mind works
she's just as lost

slow down the newer faith
and the millions with the blind eyes
you can't escape yourself when you're all alone
they want to steal your mind so badly,
and little rabbit you let them
they take all of it
until all is left is that gold button
the one from your favorite pink sweater

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