Pain in the ass

It started in summer

When the bark gave off a sickly aroma

And my shoulders got burnt

I sat in the cooked grass that baked in the sun,

Sharp blades pierced through my jeans

Poking fun at my chubby thighs

But i didn't care

My wrist was throbbing

Screaming at me from within my pulsing veins

He never used to be like this

hurt

◄ here

My mother, a purist ►

Comments

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Freya

Sun 4th Feb 2018 16:31

Thank you so so much, very grateful!!

Big Sal

Sun 4th Feb 2018 16:14

I like the imagery of nature juxtaposed to the rhythm of the poem, it's good.

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