UA-74799809-1

Friday, June 17, 2016

Poem



Sometimes the ache is worse than the actual wound.

The wound may be healed over and pink,

but the ache lingers on for weeks.

You pull and you tug at the stitches,

holding it all in and sealed,

and yet you cry when it hurts,

because there's no outlet for what you feel.





xoxo,


No comments:

Post a Comment