Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Bruised knuckles and shaking fingers, These will always remind me of him, Of a boy that I can no longer claim to know. Bruised knuckles and shaking fingers, I always hated the fact that his hands looked looked how I felt. Bruised knuckles and shaking fingers, the sign that I hadn't got there in time, I hadn't stepped between him and the wall, the wall that he so desperately want to crash against. Bruised knuckles and shaking fingers, it always ended this way; the feeling still lingers.
0
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 12:04 PM UTC
Violently Violet
Bruised knuckles and shaking fingers, These will always remind me of him, Of a boy that I can no longer claim to know. Bruised knuckles and shaking fingers, I always hated the fact that his hands looked looked how I felt. Bruised knuckles and shaking fingers, the sign that I hadn't got there in time, I hadn't stepped between him and the wall, the wall that he so desperately want to crash against. Bruised knuckles and shaking fingers, it always ended this way; the feeling still lingers.
h-raeth
Written by
20/F/Surrey, UK
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 12:04 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem