I thought today would be
Different, but there’s still blood smudged
Into my eyes, tears drowning my heart
It’s still a river of emotions stabbing on the
Inside, like the jagged rocks you threw at my face
And the pocket knife you scraped over my legs
I used to hide between my bruised skin
And nearly broken bones, but your words
Eventually loosened the knots that captured
The hurt that was carving around
My eyes, I fell into a flood
“Weak” you called me
As you hammered my arms off the side
Of an imaginary cliff- it still hurt the same
Blood still poured through the holes you pierced into me
I hope my death was smeared across your sight
I hope it seeped into you “bully, murderer”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem