the first: slamming my hips and back against the walls.
the second: teething slits into my bleeding lips.
the third: turning the shower up so the hot water burns my skin.
the fourth: going to sleep, like death is the only fix.
the fifth: smiling through blood and tears like everything is okay.
the sixth: ignoring it.
if i could fly,
sam
YOU ARE READING
thoughts ≠ sx
Poetrysomething in between a rant book and a book for a girl to ramble in. [ @clairescovers ]
