human bodies
remember the infliction of pain
the memories, the injuries
the human body
has a fascinating way of making you live the moment
all over again.
i am addicted to voices inside of my head
telling me what I am worth
and what I am not
where I do, and do not belong
my body's barely leaning against a wall
feeling the grazes and dried up blood
tell stories of pain and conflict
reeking through its cracks
that risks its fall
but the wall stands tall, I
am the wall.
i wake up
to the same scars
to the same bumps on my skin
dried blood on my sheets and a "oops" i
did it again, well
we did it again, didn't we?
I return to my bathroom floor for the umpteenth time
In a span of a week, and fight the red stains off my sink
Until my tears clean my mistakes
from the nights before i disappeared
before I get the chance to
and i
used to beg the voices in my head to leave me alone
but now that they're gone
i am lonely
I have grown used to their company
to their echoes
feeding off my psyche
and i guess I am not really clean
since they're still using me
the human body registers the pain
what causes it
and how it feels
just not this time, i think it failed somehow
it only feels like reality
looks like reality
but isn't entirely real.
YOU ARE READING
Letters I'll Never Send
Poetry"Letters I'll Never Send" is a collection of poems and letters that tell the gradual story of love, lust, heartbreak, agony, loss and eventually recovery and finding oneself. Every chapter of "Letters I'll Never Send" contains an introductory lette...
