closed wounds are on my skin
and they're everywhere from top
to bottom, and to to the middle of my waist
and they're healed, forgotten - left behind
but when words written so strongly
are in my vision, blocking away positivity
my wounds start to open up again
and they pour out blood; and blood
emotions start to stir in my stomach
and a scream rises through my throat
but luckily, i'm able to swallow it
have no people see the pain again, and again
so i'm left in an ugly mess
and the only comfort i have is a pen, paper
me, myself, and i
and that's all i need in order to survive
don't make them see. don't make them see.
YOU ARE READING
sunflowers | ✔️
Poetryin which a girl, who's fond of sunflowers, expresses her trivial feelings through not rhyming poetry, longing for someone to hear. highest ranking: #144 in poetry on june 18, 2018. 🌻
