You never tried to save me from hurting.
You saw the wounds,
Internal and on my skin.
You rubbed salt in them.
Listened to me
Scream;
Studied the sound waves
Of my torment.
I was your butterfly,
Pinned down
On decaying corkboard,
So that attempting to fly away would tear my wings apart,
But staying would leave me to the same
Fate as that sad corkboard.
I made my choice-
Tattered but healing.
Have you come to terms with yours?
YOU ARE READING
We Write for Fear of Silence
Poetry{My soul put into words. Writing is how I put myself back together again. Writing is how I love.} **all poems are mine** HIGHEST RANKING: #30 IN POETRY & #1 IN TEEN POETRY
