i tell my friends that
we have a lot of
casual sex
because that's
the easiest
thing to do
play off the bruises
as hickeys
no one cares enough
to notice the difference
i tell my parents
that you love me
but they don't know
what i call love
is you throwing me
against a wall
pinning me
suffocating me
you suck
all of the air from my lungs
not with your words
but with your weight
crushing me
drowning me
causing me to wonder
what's the point in love
at all
if all it ever comes down to is
makeup covering bruises
pills to mask the pain
long sleeves to cover the scars
a smile to hide the hurt
and a brain telling me to leave
but a heart refusing to let go.
YOU ARE READING
realities of a broken soul | poetry
PoesiaA collection of my private, most cherished poems. authors note: certain poems talk in relation to self harm or depression, including mentions of suicide. such poems are marked with an "(x)" in the chapter title.
