Sunburnt skin, I’m on fire.
Dripping in the sweat of my old self.
Always chasing after something to sink into
rather than facing the smashed mirror,
shattered out of anger,
I was aiming for myself.
Thunder clap of glass,
startling blow to my right cheek.
I think to myself-
straight teeth, fuller smile.
Crystallizing bright white,
everyone loves a fake happy, right?
I search for the sticky ruby red,
but soon realize that plastic can’t bleed.
-Who am I if I can no longer feel a thing?
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 4:01 PM UTC
Sunburnt skin, I’m on fire.
Dripping in the sweat of my old self.
Always chasing after something to sink into
rather than facing the smashed mirror,
shattered out of anger,
I was aiming for myself.
Thunder clap of glass,
startling blow to my right cheek.
I think to myself-
straight teeth, fuller smile.
Crystallizing bright white,
everyone loves a fake happy, right?
I search for the sticky ruby red,
but soon realize that plastic can’t bleed.
-Who am I if I can no longer feel a thing?
Request permission to use this poem