Sunday

16 3 0
                                    

On Sunday you smiled

at me and all I could think

about was the blood leaking

out of my wrists and hips.

My wounds vanish your

smile when you see blood

smeared on my lips instead of

the red lipstick I never wore.

You scream like just seeing

me will kill you even though

I never killed you

you killed me.

When will it be lightWhere stories live. Discover now