Your hands never understood that they could hurt even if they meant to heal.
Every time you touched me, I cringed internally.
We never dated, we never tasted each other, you never raised an angry hand to me.
So why, every time you wrap your hand around my by no means frail nor weak wrist, do I pull as hard as I can and feel fear flash in my eyes?
I know I confuse you, I confuse myself.
Yet, I know one thing for sure. If I ever end up with bruises you will get it back in ten folds.
***
I'm going to keep doing these until someone tells me to stop. The author notes I mean. But this one was a boy I know. He makes me cringe away from him internally. No, we never F, but we did get really close. He helped me realize I was lesbian. For that, I am forever grateful.
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Shit Happens
PoetryThis is for anyone that can't put there thoughts and feelings into words. Whether it be at your best, worst, most beautiful, or most tragic times. These poems will remind you of them. Or so I hope. Because I mean Shit Happens. What you should expe...
