Ode to my wrists.

R43

If my wrists were secrets 

I would hide them.

Id cover them up

with drawings of dandelions and tulips

I'd let them grow-

then I'd cut them off.

I'd let them leak down my arms-

then I'd clean them up.

I'd listen to them scream in agony

then I'd tell them to shush and suffer.

In silence.

  • Author: R43 (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: May 18th, 2025 20:50
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 23
  • Users favorite of this poem: Damaso
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Comments +

Comments2

  • Pandy

    Brave and beautifully bittersweet write. I decorated a very visible scar with nightmarish memories attached with a wildflower garden tattoo, so I truly adored your metaphor. The ending seemed like it could be a new beginning.🌸🌿

  • sorenbarrett

    A poem of crying pain. Although many prefer cut flowers to decorate their rooms I prefer to see them in my garden or in the majesty of nature blooming in all their glory until death takes them. A feeling of sadness pervades this poem so well written



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