Poetry » Nature »

dead leaves and ashtrays
Author:
october lies PM
i write better in the winter when i can't feel the cigarette between my lips or love at my fingertips.
Rated: Fiction K - English - Poetry/Drama - Words: 57 - Published: 11-14-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3074264
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i write better
in the
winter -

when i am
forced
to curl into myself
for warmth,
thrive off of
what
little
i already have,

and turn it into
enough.

i write best
when i sit in my car
alone,
and all i can think
about is
blowing steam
and secrets onto my
windows
before they fade
away.

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