The bathroom floor
Is a new home I've taken
A liking to. The cold against
My body reminds me that
Feelings can still be felt.
And the steel that teases
Me, laughs at me, and begs me
To let it dance across my skin
Is all too close.
If this friendly return must
Be repeated then am I the
One to teach myself that the
Numb no longer exists? That the
Pain demands to take a home on
My body? Am I the one to be in
Control of my feelings once more?
Because it hasn't been that way
For quite some time, I'm afraid.
With each stick they
Brake and each rock they
Throw my bones may stay
Intact. But the words that must be
Plastered on my face are my
Demons in disguise. For they
Are the truth and the truth
Haunts me more than the lies.
YOU ARE READING
Creative Title Here
PoesiKind of needed a place to put my poetry because books can burn and memories can be lost, but the internet is forever.
