Her words are like blades coming at my wrists,
Her sharp tongue clicking in her fits.
She takes my happiness rendering it useless,
She screams and curses me as I sit defenseless.
I have no choice but to listen in fear of what might happen.
It's in my best interest to ignore her hits,
Yet they're the only thing on my mind.
As I sit in silence I contemplate her words,
I find them to be true, every single one.
Salt drips to my mouth, there's nothing I can do,
This blade it is her, it's all because of you.
These marks on my wrists are because of her fits,
These scratches on my thighs are because of her lies,
This blood spilling out is because of her doubt.
But there's nothing I can do,
I can't escape I can't stop it.
No matter the pain I still have to stay,
Because she's my sister after all, and I love her anyway
YOU ARE READING
A Misunderstood Understanding
PoetryMy book of poetry; this ranges in genres, but seems to focus on the depressing side of things. There are some trigger warnings... marked with a *
