as a child i fell a lot
scraped hands, hair snagged
bandaged knees and cartoon plasters
the strenuous pain and the tears falling fast.
the smell of antiseptic intertwined with blood
crying one minute, giggling the next
but,
no childhood pain can compare to that of my teenage years
sweat clad skin pressed desperately against cold bathroom tiles
throat closed, eyes swollen
breath heavy, heavier heart
stained red lines of blood on the inside of t shirt sleeves
stomach full from feelings, not food
bitten nails, raw skin
locked door
never enough pain, feeling deserving of more
