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My wrists still raw
From the truth in your lies
I wear long sleeves
And sneeze at there pollen from the bees
For you
It hurts me truly
But I'll find a way I always do
and I'll still go tonight
Because I'm not allowed
To break
But they'll never know
That I'm not okay
YOU ARE READING
Philophobia
PoetryAssorted 100% original poetry pieces. Also some random excerpts from small stories (also original). Philophobia: (n.) a fear of love, falling in love WARNING: Indirect and direct references to sexual assault, depression, self-harm and suicide
