there is a bump
in the bottom
of our bathtub.
i have spent
a lot of time
there
taking back
the missing warmth,
under
my wrinkly skin
it forms.
i hear voices
outside
spitting venom,
breaking hearts
to remember
my heart
bled white
since
i was seven.
i hear voices
outside
but the loudest
will always be
my own.
they leave me
to kneel
at death's mercy
to whisper,
you'll always be
alone.
i think
no one knows
better
how to break
my heart
more than i do.
YOU ARE READING
The blue flower that taught me how to live
Poetry''Because the world is so full of death and horror, I try again and again to console my heart and pick the flowers that grow in the midst of hell.'' -Herman Hesse Disclaimer: I don't own any of the videos, photos used for this book. Credits go out...
