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Aug 2014
I remember the sting of the belt, the sting of the knife, and how easy it was to forget about the pain once I woke up next to you. I remember how every fibre of my being wanted to kiss you awake. But then I recalled that you don’t sleep very much. And I turned away, closing my eyes. Letting you disappear, retreat into yourself, even as you lay next to me.

The sting of your silence is what I can’t un-feel. A wound destined to never heal.
woelita
Written by
woelita
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   ---, ---, Maggie Emmett, ---, --- and 1 other
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