Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2021
The blood seeps from the inflicted wound,
it stains the armour that you have worn for so long.
You go to clutch the laceration,
except that there was none.
It stings and burns and aches.
But there is no wound that you can see.
But oh do you feel it.
Invisible wounds don't mean it doesn't hurt.
Anna Maria
Written by
Anna Maria  16/F
(16/F)   
  475
     ---, izzn, --- and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems