Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
My parent crash-landed on the bed
and I was born in wreckage of the burnt plane
with missing windows and broken bones
with dead people and ghost-homes.

don't ask me
why my skin looks like coal
or why my anger is a match in gasoline
why I have hands made of scissors
and body wrapped in razor wires.
but mama,
i m all bruised
black and blue
not only from outside
but inside too.

— The End —