a confidant once shared
cut into my back purring
cautiously
'i'm doubting her too
she came to school the next
day looking finitely
fine, even happy'
and the response i craved
'oh my friend
when will you realise
everything about me
is simply a perfect illusion'
but perfect things aren't broken
shattered upon bloodstained
dollhouses mended
by a roll of scotch tape
coming undone
knot untying my dress
cap on the glass bottle
strings cuffing me down
heart under its sheathing
devoured freely by time
and the gulf it sways
of happiness for a patch
masked by memories
crouching behind music im
relapsing
and this is my plea
slashing words upon paper
instead of blood upon wrists
please
save me
~ feeble
YOU ARE READING
acheful
Poetry❝ the town was paper but the memories were not. ❞ an anthology of poems written during an inexplicable journey of friendship, hope and forgiveness called life.
