Blueprint
They handed me a body like a floorplan—
no doors, only expectations.
I built escape hatches out of music,
poured windows from ink.
Now I live in my edits,
rewriting the roof.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
