Do not stare at me
like you know
every story of
my scars,
how wounded was I,
and who did it.
Do not stare at me
like you've seen
how painful it was,
how slowly it healed,
and how it almost not.
Do not stare at me
like you care,
like you'd help.
Please, don't.
I might tell you the whole story.
And swear, you won't like it
when you find out
that you'll be the one
to create the ending.
YOU ARE READING
She
Poetry"A book is she that has countless pages, blood is her inks, and her pain writes." This story contains prose and short poetries that is all about a woman's point of view of love and life.
