stop, that hurts
my cheeks burned with red
like the color of his shirt
and i wish to be dead.
my cries fell on deaf ears
my eyes grew wet with tears.
a blind eye he turned
to the tears that i shed
to the sighs that i dread
to the blood that i bled.
when will you ever learn?
says the voices in my head
why must your heart still yearn,
why must you not be dead?
why must you not be dead?
his lies fell on trusting ears
blue skies, how i wish they would appear.
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Author:
𝓀 (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 5th, 2026 19:52
- Comment from author about the poem: an anecdotal poem about sexual assault
- Category: Sad
- Views: 2
Offline)
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