Dec 2020
It was as though he’d touched me with cut,
bloodied palms.
His hands on my skin stung him
and marked me.
I carried the blame for being pretty
but salty.
bloodied palms.
His hands on my skin stung him
and marked me.
I carried the blame for being pretty
but salty.
inspired by this one: https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4144778/if-i-were-me/
(I was the type)
(I was the type)
(F/England)
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