The place for writers: Upload your writing in minutes, receive peer feedback from other writers, poets, authors, then get your work published out there in the real world. Learn how other writers are doing it.
I came crawling to you,
ink pouring out
of my veins.
Writing is in
my blood,
you see.
And no one can
make it leave.
I desperatly
cling
for dear life
to your pant leg,
only to have you shake
me off.
You'll regret this one day.
Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...
hi,
There's an interesting emotion underlining this short poem. I like how his obsessive behavior and emotions is tainted slightly with resentment. Makes sense.
Interesting write.
peace,
MM
