f
u
c
k
It's a scream into my pillow
when I accidentally hit an artery.
It's the bloodstains on my pillow,
that my doctor father will
obviously recognize.
f
u
c
k
it's knowing that I shouldn't have trusted
but still trusting anyway
because I am told
to do that.
f
u
c
k
it's falling in love with someone
far enough away to make
everything
difficult.
f
u
c
k
is every impulsive thing I've done
blood on my pillow
hair on the floor,
from where I cut it with the same scissors
That just turned me
into a
pariah.
f
u
c
k
I have nothing to do
but scream.
at my pillow,
at the world,
at the pain,
at everything.
at YOU
