The scars on my arm,
Match the scars on my feet.
The stitches strung from rotten yarn -
Yarn of skin peeled off the street,
They'll stitch and sew into my mind,
They'll stitch me so I'll follow blind.
-
Author:
GRJ (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 9th, 2023 00:30
- Comment from author about the poem: hi. its been a while. where do i start? well, i turned 18 in march...then broke my ankle the day after my bday (& broke it in 3 PLACES). i had 2 surgeries (hardware input (8 screws & a metal plate) & then a hardware removal (now just 7 screws & 1 plate)). im walking again so thts nice (also they didnt give me stitches, i got staples but i cld only think for stitches) i also graduated high school! i also have a tattoo (& i did get my lip pierced as an early bday gift but bc i had to take them out for surgery the holes closed so im gonna get ot repierced this upcoming week) but yeah. lots been goin on. anyways...heres this i just whipped up :3
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 1
Offline)
Comments1
That's good news. Your poem portraits a street junkie.
Not that their the worst in the world.
Cheers.
Mature right.
idk what u mean but..thanks?
More good news.
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