Born to a cold room that reeks lemon scented
chemicals.
I cannot see.
It's so loud.
Why?
It can't be me...
No I hate noise.
It buzzes and stings like the bees that I heard my
father hates to see.
They say it's December,
the 14th in fact.
Snow will soon come,
but the hells heat will be back.
YOU ARE READING
See Me Now
PoetryPoems recounting my life for those to see, for those to understand. This book does mention self harm and suicidal thoughts.
