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saoirse-sunshyne-simmonsPoems
His hands, so sweet until they sang discolored accusations to my face. He held me so tight, so close. Indistinguishable skin with his  hands on my throat. Eyesight like ebony, silhouettes on my bones. I can't take anymore,  don't want to go home.
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Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 5:29 PM UTC
Home with Him.
His hands, so sweet until they sang discolored accusations to my face. He held me so tight, so close. Indistinguishable skin with his  hands on my throat. Eyesight like ebony, silhouettes on my bones. I can't take anymore,  don't want to go home.
#love#sad#abuse#past#personal#experience
saoirse-sunshyne-simmons
Written by
saoirse-sunshyne-simmons
The Pacific Northwest.
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 5:29 PM UTC
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