Most of my creativity emerges
from crestfallen summer nights,
where I tear the seams of the scars
that have reopened
after a thoughtless word
after a tasteless comment
after an inconsiderate finger,
jabbing into the insecurities
I imagined myself to bury,
but in reality,
I have not.
Humid,
crestfallen summer nights
encapsulate me,
until the pain numbs
me.
Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 2:52 PM UTC
Most of my creativity emerges
from crestfallen summer nights,
where I tear the seams of the scars
that have reopened
after a thoughtless word
after a tasteless comment
after an inconsiderate finger,
jabbing into the insecurities
I imagined myself to bury,
but in reality,
I have not.
Humid,
crestfallen summer nights
encapsulate me,
until the pain numbs
me.
