you've been biting your nails, haven't you?
they're jagged and bleeding and sore from holding a pen.
your eyebags have turned yellow and bruised your flushed cheeks.
your whole body trembles like a love note caught in a thunderstorm.
you have papercuts on your veins,
and since blood is technically not red till it leaves the body,
your insides are turning blue.
you're not doing ok.
you're tired all the time,
but your bedsheets are cold:
there is no one to fill them with.
you don't want someone to fill them.
you have papercuts on your veins,
and your hands sting.
you pull away whenever he tries to grab them.
your nails are wet against his palm,
sticky with blood and spit to scare him away-
he doesn't take the hint.
why won't he take the hint?
why won't he take the hint?
WHY WON'T HE TAKE THE HINT?
YOU ARE READING
Lonely Thoughts
Puisi~technically, every day is leg day when you're running away from your problems~ ((alternatively titled: please enjoy my laughable poetry.))
