Left to right,
Line to line,
My skin burns
A deep
Crimson red.
With shame,
I walk
Towards my sink
To clean the sting
Of the freshly
Marked flesh
I have ruined.
I've done
It so
So
Many times before.
And each time
I feel
Ashamed,
Disappointed,
Hurt,
And relieved.
YOU ARE READING
Poems by me
PoetrySo I'm not the best at writing. And I don't write often. This is also my first "story". This is going to be a book of poems I write. It won't be updated often. And I'm kind of scared to even upload any. But I'm going to do it anyways. Even if I get...
