I can understand her pain, though I pretend I cannot.
We are the same, terrified by what we crave,
Emboldened by what we can inflict upon ourselves.
I can imagine her, the tears she cannot fathom,
And the pen that explodes into life as she writes
Her own trauma, dreams herself a dance with death,
Kisses that bloodied fist as it bursts her brightened lips.
Sep 3, 2017
Sep 3, 2017 at 1:06 PM UTC
I can understand her pain, though I pretend I cannot.
We are the same, terrified by what we crave,
Emboldened by what we can inflict upon ourselves.
I can imagine her, the tears she cannot fathom,
And the pen that explodes into life as she writes
Her own trauma, dreams herself a dance with death,
Kisses that bloodied fist as it bursts her brightened lips.