sickly, stagnant
Thumb-sized bruises—from griping too hard—pepper my inner thighs.
it's swimsuit season
and my awkward legs are decorated with scars.
steamy, sticky summer
Liquid courage and xannax pulse through my veins,
my heart will still
my lungs will accept air.
sun sets summer
Car seat patterns momentarily join the bruises on the backs of my thighs.
my awkward legs sprawled in either direction as fingers find themselves fit to the bruises.
in the summer of my life
where i seem to be immeasurably happy
YOU ARE READING
sometimes rain, sometimes rainbow - poetry collection
Poetrya collection of poems, written in real time about the good, the bad, and the ugly that comes with healing. PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS this poetry collection includes themes and descriptions of: sexual violence/assault/harassment PTSD halluci...
