The Knife in the BathA Poem by Iliana Peters
You know those smiles,
where your eyes are sad, but you're laughing Or the way you go out all weekend, and you dance all night, but you cry all day The constant searching for something in others, that you can never find in yourself The way every time you run yourself a bath, you bring a knife The need to feel loved by him, because you can only hate yourself Or every time you wait for a train, you stand too close The great depression
© 2017 Iliana PetersReviews
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