This open wound, a decade of blood soaking from beneath my shirt.
But you'll never see my broken skin, so how would you know I'm screaming for help?
You hurt me some more,
like salt falling into my wound, because the self pain wasn't enough.
How do I beg for help,
without showing you my bruises my tears should be enough, right?
YOU ARE READING
Hurtful
PoetryThis is about poems that I feel as tho I can relate to and I'm sure a lot of others can relate to. Just remember your never alone, there's always someone you can reach out to and talk to tell them how hard it is tell them how much you are struggling
