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neck hurts from dancing
I slept in my contacts and
on top of the world

we taste shadows of
hot smoke snowflake black coffee
talk about futures

and in a whiteout
sore and warm and still searching
we find the morning

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MckayThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Apr. 17, 2013 at 1:14 pm
I love your descriptions; you have a talent for capturing images vividly. The messages might be hard to ascertain at first, but pondering for a few minutes thereafter you find "the raw material of poetry in all its rawness and that which is on the other hand genuine" that Marianne Moore talks about in the end of "Poetry." As always you dazzle and impress me with your poetry, MyApocalyptic. 
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