i had forgot what id done
what the red had made me do
until i felt it dripping off me
pooling at my feet
and i told myself it wasn't me
claimed the red had hypnotized me
possessed me
that i did not let the silver caress me
that it was the red
but that was a lie
dear god i did so willingly
and i still can't be sorry about it
YOU ARE READING
wilting roses
PoetryAnother collection of (bad) poems. *tw: mentions of sexual assault, drug use, drinking, suicidal ideation and self harm* -a collection of poems that document my experiences with my mental health throughout high school. a warning: i had a few undiagn...
