Tw: S/h
They don't notice.
Nobody does.
They ignore the bandaids;
Ignore the lines,
Spread upon your thighs.
Not even your father,
Mother,
Sister,
Family.
They don't notice,
The lines on your hands,
When they were on display:
Still red,
Still visible.
They ignored the bracelets;
When you covered,
The left wrist,
On your worst days.
When shorts were cut,
From your wardrobe,
They didn't seem to care;
Nor did they notice.
CZYTASZ
My Poetry
PoezjaMost of this is sad, any TW will be at the start of them I'm a 16 y/o just wanting to share some of my poetry with people other than my friends :] (Also feel free to comment any tips and how I could improve on my writing!)
