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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
flesh.

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.
awknight
Written by
awknight  27/F/Hell
(27/F/Hell)   
134
 
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