Black and blue, purple too,
Against skin so fair,
But no one really notices,
Nor takes a second glance.
Such an unusual pain.
Just before impact,
I hesitate and refrain.
That poor wall has done nothing,
Yet I still hit it,
Till there's blood and bruises,
And a need for a new excuse.
Collecting myself,
I find an ice pack,
And whisper,
"never, not ever again"
The bruises do fade,
And pain goes away.
Till my mind loses it once again.
05.09.16
YOU ARE READING
We've All Gone Brain Dead
PoetryDon't mind me, I'm just going to go choke on my aesthetics
