Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2020
I reach for your aches
your skin jumps away;
in pride you find truth
but insist I am your
     only lie.

Eyes of brass search for harm,
creating their narrative --
things to pass.

But dear,
Can you see the wounds along
my already scarred

We should be breaking bread,
a communion of souls.
Instead my welts bleed as your words land,
unrealizing across something
already so broken.

Again, I bleed in painful silence.
Written by
awknight  27/F/Hell
Please log in to view and add comments on poems