bloom (Remove filter)
In Bloom.
The past reverberates through me in the present
stains my clothes pungent.
At fifteen, a boy stole the solace of the dark from me
in his bed
with his hands.
Now when he touches me,
he must keep the lights on.
In sleep the past has me,
travels upwards, claws at my throat
and I cry out
for the dark to let me in.
At twenty, the boy who stole the solace of my...
Tuesday 28th June 2022 4:37 am
Recent Comments
7eVen on Unshekel'd (I'll be happy)
1 hour ago
Auracle on Queering the Landscape
6 hours ago
Auracle on Unshekel'd (I'll be happy)
6 hours ago
David RL Moore on The indefinite sentence
7 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Haiku; illegal loggers.
11 hours ago
Tom on Uncalculated Coitus
11 hours ago
David RL Moore on The indefinite sentence
18 hours ago
Manish Singh Rajput on Treacherous Tattoo
22 hours ago
Manish Singh Rajput on Love Song
23 hours ago
Manish Singh Rajput on Whispers of winter
23 hours ago