Sometimes
I just can't resist
the sensation
of thumbs on corners
of scabs, and
winter air on
biting bleeding lips.
Sometimes I just can't resist
nail and skin clash,
I'm trash
and I like iron on my tongue,
rust, salt. Sometimes
I just can't stop myself from
letting out a few silent screams.
Fuck, I fucked up again,
fuck, I failed again
and I can't resist the texture
of scarring skin or peeling back
what happened before.
Well shit, look what I done now.
(20th December 2013)
YOU ARE READING
Blue Moon
Poetry"Still she haunts me, phantomwise, Alice moving under skies Never seen by waking eyes." - Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There (2012 - 2014)
