8:45pm, may 26 2018
i'm bleeding from my wrists for you,
thin lines that bubble up,
thin like you urge me to be.
i've cried for you a hundred times;
when all has gone awry,
i've sat with the bathroom door locked,
blood and tears
all for you. All for you
i change myself from head to toe
from muscles to inner organs,
i make myself skin and bones for you -
empty all of what made you come to me,
but you could never leave me,
would you?
YOU ARE READING
do you think he sees me as just a pretty face?
Poetrysad sap space babe poetry, 2017-2018 'cause writing it out is medicinal. do you think all he sees is a pretty face, or is that too conceited of me to say? at this point maybe that's the best that it gets.
