Clean room, dusty mirrors and all I see is darkness.
Bloody arms and open wounds with open stitches.
Blood drips from my arms to the sheets as I get up and remove the sheets, I turn the bed over as if nothing's there.
I headed to the laundry room to find the bleach, and I turn on the washer to wash the bloody sheets.
YOU ARE READING
Negative zero
PoetryAlone and nobody is around to understand and help with my pain. demons all around me they became my family.
