To be honest, I am scared. And for all I would know is he could be dead. His parents don't know me. They don't know how to tell me. His sisters don't know me either. They wouldn't know how to spell my email or anything. I'd be alone. I wouldn't know.
But at the same time, I could die. And he wouldn't know. He wouldn't know until he came back.
It's 9:24 in the morning, I just got done burning my skin off of me in the shower. It feels so much better. But my lips are raw and my stomach hurts. He'd say something like "Come here so I can kiss it better." And he would. He would make it numb. It wouldn't feel worse, but just numb. I wouldn't be able to feel it anymore because his kisses are distracting. I need those kisses right now.
I hurt. I wish I could stay in the shower just to burn. To hurt myself without sound. But the hot water would need to run out. My room is so cold. My room is too cold.
I need a relief of this pain and I don't have one so I'm going to write it out. I want to sleep, til he comes back. But I don't know when that is. So I have to stay awake. I have to wait.
YOU ARE READING
to be honest
Poetryto be honest is a book based on my life, what is going on, how my mind works, how I'm feeling, and basically all of the in between. Some areas may be made-up, or simply not explained enough to be understood.
