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The Wounds Beneath

Read and then Listen: First Love/ Late Spring by Mitski.

By Geomara FloresPublished about a year ago 1 min read
The Wounds Beneath
Photo by Cherry Laithang on Unsplash

He has done nothing wrong,

by just trying to know me.

But my chest tightens, my hands let go.

I hear a warning, a familiar drum.

Can this be real? Can it be safe?

His consistency a safe haven. His silence a dark void.

These wounds I carry,

invisible under my skin,

run much deeper than I’d thought.

In loneliness, I grow, within connection lost.

The stitches bleed as he reaches for connection.

Alarms triggered.

His reach I ignore.

I slip back into loneliness —that familiar quiet corner.

Silent walls. Silent tears.

I hug myself, as I always do,

for this solitude feels safer than glancing toward love.

Darkness, pulling me under the comfort of its hold,

whispering to me.

Child, it’s ok to run.

Before these shards break even more.

Trust not the cold world, but my warm embrace.

I’ll hold them for you so fiercely —

With them, a gamble you take.

sad poetryslam poetrylove poems

About the Creator

Geomara Flores

I’m Geo, a writer, illustrator, and Marriage and Family Therapy graduate student. I believe in the importance of information and knowledge, and I write about psychology, mental health, spirituality, and social justice.

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