Made Of Sentences, a poem by Drem

 

This is in the same vein as the other ink poem. Here you go.

 


 

Made of Sentences, a poem by Drem

December 12, 2015

“I’m not made of myself.

I’m made of words they say.

I’m not made of myself.

Blood does not run through.

Sentences cut through

the veins.

Just try- cut me.

I like it,

the feeling.

Sentences, see, sentences pour

out of me.

They’re loud

and descriptive

when describing

the shell

of a woman, me,

who rather

be called a girl

because she fears

the world she breathes in,

the world she’s stuck in,

the world she lives in.

She turns on

the television

in her mind.

Her candy

is her TV.

Still words fill her body.

 No heart.

No memories of her own.

Of my own.

It’s all what people say.

And people aren’t kind.”


3 thoughts on “Made Of Sentences, a poem by Drem

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