I wrote this poem in high school. It’s in my journal next to some very bloody drawings (red pen, not actual blood) and lots more angry, rambly poetry. Apparently I had some teen angst. That’s a whole separate blog post.
Anyhow, I love this poem for its simplicity and directness.
Untitled
I use to live
by a ski lift,
but I fell off
and now
I’m a stiff.
(The End.)
