I wrote this poem for my Ela class in my school. It's about skin and it's kinda dark, so yeah. I hope you enjoy reading or don't if you don't read it, if you don't want to that's nice too. [I Apologize if there were any typos]
Skin
By Golddiee
Wash it off...
I wish I could wash it off...
I've prayed to wash it off...
Why won't it just come off?...
Laughter, one of the most beautiful, but cruelest things in the world erupts through out the corridor
Faces of joy and evil, taunting me
Silent tears fall...
Quiet weeps of pain...
Screams that echo on the inside ringing oh so loud, the outside could almost hear the wretched noise
Shame
My Skin. I hate it, I want to wash it off... I wish to wash it off...
My Skin. I wish to wash it off till there's nothing left, but my brittle bones and the lungs inside me skeleton are are all they can see.
I scrub harder
Scrub
Scrub
Scrub
The blazing hot water from the sink feels like fire on my skin, I continue to rub until my skin turns a bright red and the deep dark rich red blood starts to pour out
Ow.
Blame
I've prayed to wash it off...
But our "God" has refused my one wish, the one to end this torture, this pain, this suffering
He has refused to let me be at peace, he tells me "This is no curse, this is a blessing" He says to "Take this blessing and wear it proudly."
I don't think our "God" gets that this is more of a curse then a blessing
That this is more of a curse without a cure
That this is more of a curse than a blessing
My Skin. I hate it. I want to wash it off.
I wish I could wash it off. . .
My Skin. I wish to wash it off till there's nothing left but my brittle bones and the lungs inside my skeleton are all they can see.
My Skin. I wish to rid of it, till there's nothing left but, my brittle bones a-. . .
My Skin. I need to wash it off.....
I pray to wash it off....
Why won't it just come off!?!
Poem by,
Golddieeee
(I know it sucks right?)