That spot on my leg is itching again
The one that’s getting red.
When I sink my nails into it,
I hear objection.
I scraped the soap scum off the bottom of the tub
Feeling more accomplished.
Pathetic.
I stirred coffee with a laughing girl beside me
Feeling more courageous.
Sad, really.
But the gum tastes sweeter when bitten from a hard candy shell.
So do you.
The light bulb went out in my boiling room.
I kind of like that darkness
Where the only light is my closet.
I still close it, though
Feeling like I’m ten again.
I can’t remember being afraid of monsters in my room.
Now they’re merely figures
That I escape during the day
Regretting I didn’t hand in my paper.
Here it is! I’m sorry, I was absent.
How many times can I keep making that excuse?
Grabbing my hair, sinking into my desk.
My hand is red
But now it’s black.
My hair stains everything.
I’m sorry, I’ll clean the sink.
Don’t yell, here I’ve got a rag.
Throw it on my face and I’m wiping tears in an office.
Why do I cry at the fact that I’m being accused for scratching?
Accused, more like found out.
That spot on my leg is itching again.
And it’s getting rather red.
When I sink my nails into it,
I hear your objection.
I promised to wash your hair.
I didn’t do that either…
I’m sorry I was absent for awhile.

 
Copyright © mytragedy22, All Rights Reserved