She stretched her sleeves to cover them.
The knife cut deep on her scarred thighs.
I said I didn't mind that she hurt
Herself. Still, the hand covered the bruise.
She ate little. The mirror scoffed
Still. "Fine!" I'd say. "I'll eat alone."
I said I didn't mind that she starved
herself. Still, the hand covered the bruise.
I wish I pulled her hand.
I wish I didn't just speak.
Lately I can't eat too.
My hand covers the bruise.
Every night, happiness wears her fancy colorful dress and sway on her feet on the other side of the street , she draws a grin on her angelic face telling me I’m never going to have her in my bed.
I never wanted her in my bed
I just needed a hope
I’m going to touch her
Only touch her
— The End —