Decorated Pain
i decorated my scars with poetry so people would admire what killed me.

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Decorated Pain
i decorated my scars with poetry so people would admire what killed me.

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The Smile is the Worst Part
I learned how to cry without making a sound. how to bleed without leaving a mess. how to smile with teeth that ache from biting back every scream.
they call it dramatic but they don’t know the art of self-destruction performed in silence.
the laugh you heard? wasn’t mine. just the echo of a survival instinct that forgot how to feel like living.
Apology in Bruises
I never meant to break skin— only silence. But fists know what mouths forget: how to scream without sound.