Bound for edit

just felt like writing something.

 Frazzled, fried and all over the place

spun up and tangled no direction to face

tough as nails

delicate as lace

stone cold, fired up

in red hot embrace

sex, hate and a love for  space

leaving a mark like a welt

taking off with no trace

 

 

Reviews

[Libby McKeown]

This reminds me of being broke and close to starvation, and I had to whip up dinner from anything I could find in the kitchen, and ended up with something awesome and delicious. This poem is awesome! The similes of nails and lace could probably use some work...maybe even swapping the two to offset things! Mere suggestions. Thanks for sharing!!