You will never be able to comprehend how it feels to be dressed head to toe in clothes that make you feel like you've done something wrong and torn away from your confused parents whose eyes have sunken into their undeserving skulls. To be lead down an unfamiliar, dark hallway and feeling your bones quiver with each step you take. To be led into a bedroom with a girl whose arms are torn and whose curly hair and glasses cover a broken smile. Sharing a room with an orphan and desperately trying to cry quietly. You've never felt the hundreds of pills down the back of your sore throat. You've never vomited uncontrollably whilst your body shakes and your fingertips look like those of zombies. You've never cut deep slices into your breasts, a place where no one can find them, and covered your bleeding ankles with your unwashed sweatpants.
So why do you say you understand?
YOU ARE READING
Requins
PoetrySome words thrown together, forming something along the lines of poetry.