Photo by Christina Victoria Craft on Unsplash
I met a boy at school,
the one like fire who I thought could give me
a name.
His embrace tasted sour,
perhaps because the world didn’t feel real then,
or perhaps because he wasn’t really
mine.
His glow faded in the evenings, with a smile
pressed on like a postage stamp.
We both knew the crime scene to come,
telling me to drink more
and laugh with his friends.
They would never like me. He’d say
it’s my fault.
And I know guilt sits on your tongue when you kiss me and
slips down my throat like a pill
pinching
tighter.
Perhaps he took my voice as well, when he said to
never speak to him again.
He said he’ll always crave my body.
About the Creator
Becca Harrington
Intersectional Feminist. Writer. Earth-lover.
I like the 1975 and doughnuts ✨



Comments (2)
Medicine is often a very difficult field to practice, because there are so many different ways to help people and sometimes you feel like you can't make a difference for them at all. But empathy is what makes medicine possible—it's what makes us want to do what we do every day. https://dr-secrets.com/
Empathy is kind of like the heart of medicine. You can't help people without it. It's not just a nice-to-have—you need it, and you need it all the time. I think we all know someone who has been helped by empathy, but sometimes we forget about how important it is in our own lives. https://dr-secrets.com/