Potential trigger warning: This poem may have references to acts of self-harm.
That vibrates in a soundless room
That nicks the walls
That stains the tub
That crumples the sheets
But leaves me alone
Except for the scar on my cheek
The things I do to myself
I don’t know why.
To check out more of Jo Kolar’s work, go here.
Categories: L.W.W.O.H. Submissions Posts