Long nights—filled with my most revealing weakness
I try to hold it in
I try to hold it in
As best I can…
Some nights
hiding under the covers
I feel myself tense
My breath slowly being taken away from me
It all comes back
Under the oak tree
In the moonlight
I saw
The purple spread
Across my thighs
The darkness spread
Across my chest
Other nights—I hear it
The panting
The footsteps
The hate
My paranoia devours me whole
I turn around before I hear doors close
I run away before I know what I’m running from
I always leave—before I know why
His hands reaping my skin
As I gasp to catch my breath
My pain filling the air
Like a mockingbird’s last song
Roses spread across my bed
As I see
His foul lips
for the last time
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem