you asked to see my scars,
so i showed you my
wrists,
thighs,
and hips.
but then i whispered
"those are just the ones
on the surface."
and you asked
what i meant by that,
and i told you about
all of the scars left
on my heart.
and you replied,
"those were the ones
i saw first,
and that's why i'm
here to try to fix it."
YOU ARE READING
deadroses || poetry
Poetry"we had a vision though, now we dead roses" now, why did she send them? these broken down, wilted, beat up, rotten-looking flowers.
