The showers sting like the
words that roll off your tongue
The Crimson red has become
an addiction i can no longer control
Wrist, bicep, legs, stomach
There is no in between of the places the silver has touched
I think I am alone in this addiction
but the girl from Mars understand the language of pain from the little silver blade
We count the years and there's
too many for her
I wish to help but
how can I help when I cannot save myself
from drowning in the overflowing read waves
-caitlin
YOU ARE READING
the brokenness
Poetrymy poetry from over the years tw: mention of self harm, eating disorder, and rape
