BruisesA Poem by EllenSalt tastes like sunshine did. Reckless is fun when you are not the one who gets hurt. I’m always the one to get hurt. There are thoughts in jars You can hide yours there too Lets face it, they’re all about you. Bruises are innocent, When they are the shape of a thumb, And look like bodies touching. © 2014 Ellen |
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Added on February 13, 2014 Last Updated on February 13, 2014 Tags: relationship, love, teenage, lust, sex, interior monologue, poem |