Sometimes it feels better to deny myself Pleasures or water or food When I’m bad Sometimes it feels better to cut myself Inside and out Of my skin See my blood run, feel it coagulate On the skin above the Denial of abuse Swirling… Continue Reading “Losing My Faith”
The bathroom was dirty. The off-white tiles shined almost brown in the cheap fluorescent lighting. She noticed right away there were no paper towels, only hand dryers, the kind that blow all the dust and germs around.
She checked the first stall and then the seconds-no, still dirty. She would have to hold it until she got home after school, or skip 3rd period to go home to pee.