high
1 min readNov 11, 2019
free verse
Blood.
Blobbing in veins.
Heart.
Pumping without retain.
Blasting music
up to the sky,
oh, my God,
I can fly.
Hanging on
poor lives
from the Arctic
to the sacrifice
High.
High.
High.
Until
I die.
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Written by Tiziana Arnone
“I write what I couldn’t tell anyone”. writer. poet, observer. Relationship. Parenting. Personal Growth. Enchanted with life. Thin Skin/amazon.com
