Wounds open
So be it
Wounds close
So be it
Wounds are wounds
Blow gas into my blood stream
So be it
Lick my guilty cuts
So be it
Hold me as I weep
How dare you
It's not your place to comfort me
I didn't tell you that you could touch me
How dare you cross that boundary
What's your fucking problem?
-Michael's
YOU ARE READING
The Group Project
PoesieA project of random poems by Salem (me), Axel, Bishop and Jack. Maybe some guest appearances every so often.
