The nail of my thumb brushes a scab,
The raw skin stinging.
My fingers clench, nails imbedding themselves in my palms.
Was chewing the side of my cheek.
Could taste the metalic in my spit.
Could clearly hear my thoughts.
Or what I thought where my thoughts.
Couldn’t tell them between.
Murmur and word, Couldn't
Lower my voice
To a point
Where she wouldn't flinch
When only my lips would tremble.
Wanted to take back what
she didn’t know.
Aug 19, 2025
Aug 19, 2025 at 6:05 PM UTC
The nail of my thumb brushes a scab,
The raw skin stinging.
My fingers clench, nails imbedding themselves in my palms.
Was chewing the side of my cheek.
Could taste the metalic in my spit.
Could clearly hear my thoughts.
Or what I thought where my thoughts.
Couldn’t tell them between.
Murmur and word, Couldn't
Lower my voice
To a point
Where she wouldn't flinch
When only my lips would tremble.
Wanted to take back what
she didn’t know.
Regret, Anger.