it crawls
it leaks
it consumes
a tapestry on my skin
exuding from the cries of my soul
swallowed by the inescapable sensation
I feel it in the ivory of my bones
and the bruising of my heart
i have forgotten who i am without it
who i was before i felt it
i mourn her beauty, her innocence
for i am now etched in disgust
when my reflection looks back at me
my mirror cracks
my body morphs
my hands trace the scars
reluctantly written on my wrists
i have become a statue of my trauma
inscribed in hidden tears and words unsaid
it crawls, it leaks, and i've been consumed
YOU ARE READING
stitches
PoetryA collection of poems, written in the depths of my emotions. I hope readers can find themself in my writing.
