The Laundry RoomA Poem by Jose WaldoRight now a teenager stands in a laundry room Being slammed against a wall By a boy whose hands always dropped just a bit too low Who was always just a bit too interested The next day She’ll wear her hair down for the first time in months Trying to cover the hickeys he forced upon her Bruising her more and more in each kiss Each text Each… In the night She’ll stay up until morning Forcing fake maturity just trying to finally be enough for someone leaning on unsteady support systems so much She forgets that she’s falling A month later She’ll start breaking open pencil sharpeners Convinced that blades in skin Is a source of freedom That maybe he’ll leave her body In each drop of blood But baby girl, he’ll leave scars. © 2018 Jose Waldo |
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1 Review Added on April 27, 2018 Last Updated on April 27, 2018 Author
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