i don't think the image of myself
at 8 years old trying to figure out how to
cover bruises he left will ever fade from the mirror.
it seems to be that it's never me standing there,
it's her and all of her tears, all of her pain.
inside i think i'm still that 8 year old girl
trying to cover the memories he left
after the bruises were gone.
YOU ARE READING
poetry to make you bleed
Poetryif you've seen these in tiktok, don't worry, i didn't steal these!! my tiktoks are @writemeaway @herewefellinluv and i post these on there and vice versa:))) poems that i've written over the past couple of months, they are everywhere: favorable, so...
