Withered Petals

Withered Petals

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing12m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Aug 5, 2025
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Poetry
Bridges burn, loose ends collapse, ropes are cut. The worst part is the silence of it all. Was it their fault? No, it was yours. Was it really though? They never came back to answer that question for you.
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Mia

Everyone always wants to know. They're always staring, moving out of my way as I walk down the hall with my books in my hands. They whisper, they point with sympathetic eyes. They want to know my side of the story. How he did it, how he touched me, what it felt like, what was going through my head the whole time. They all just want answers. They want to know. But they shouldn't. I lived through every nightmare you could have ever had as a kid. You woke up crying about it, I probably went through it. Two years. Two years I was gone. Taken away.

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