Notes from the teenage underground.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Speak.
I hid in the bathroom until I knew all the buses had left. The salt in my tears felt good when it stung my lips, like I deserved the pain. I washed my face in the sink until there was nothing left of it, no eyes, no nose, no mouth. A slick nothing.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment