Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

The Cling

Custom User Avatar
More by this author
Three years. Three years you just burnt. Brain cells. Thoughts. Intellect.
TRUST.
All smeared from glistens to shamed s***fuls. DUST.
Its gone –that era, that age, that state you were unscathed. Faith in the rest, faith in yourself. Asking ‘If I can’t see, how can I be?’
Worse than that, ‘if I can’t feel, who will read the braille for me? The Goosebumps, the warm, the longing or form?’
The grief, it trickles

The shatters, the cracks


The shakes, they arrive – the wake waiting, braced for attack.
Back, there’s no back – it’s born the brunt
The screen that’s broke: The pain that’s acid, wreaking tang of time wasted
now we’re curdling with confront.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback