And here we lay our scene
On a hotel floor.
We see a girl trying not to be seen.
She's wasting away,
But she writes her feelings out.
Just for herself though,
On paper she writes about her doubt.
It's become a barrier.
She writes until every piece of hurt is written.
It never matters the time,
Because in real life, her tongue is bitten.
Protection, she explains.
I wouldn't be looked at the same if they weren't buried.
And so happy, smiley girl she became.
YOU ARE READING
Whispers of the Wounded
Poetry//Poetry written by the pained// I keep thinking That if I keep whispering These terrible thoughts to this wind Maybe I'd see the meaning in something again //Cover by the amazing @anixkuh//
