Free From Me

 

My fingertips, laced around the handle of this teacup.

Sat comparing the cracks close-up.

The tea-stains that lay around it’s edge, from days overused.

Trying incessantly to scrub away the evidence of abuse.

A tshirt hangs from my lanky frame.

I avoid the mirror, what I’ve became.

Scars litter my skin, from fights and animal bites.

And mainly so, from lonely nights.

I pull on a hoodie and zip it up.

Pick back up that stained teacup.

Place it down and make some tea.

Daydream of a time when I can be free, from me.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: