Bruise
A bathtub full of ice and it isn’t the coldest thing in the room.
Clear liquid floating through my veins
And a blurred floral comforter that reeks of previous cocooning and an untouchable stench.
Alone, my keys taken away by friends so I don’t get hurt
And I call and call but am largely ignored and left with a friend who climbs on top of me
As I lay, belly down, willing the world to slow down
And I’m too numb to object, too unnerved to really care and I count the thrusts until it is over.
Later, they laugh at me in the hallway of my dorm and tell me what didn’t happen
And eventually I transfer and run away and I’m always in the same car driving from
Demons that have screwed the life out of me.
A bathtub full of ice and it isn’t the coldest thing in the room.
Clear liquid floating through my veins
And a blurred floral comforter that reeks of previous cocooning and an untouchable stench.
Alone, my keys taken away by friends so I don’t get hurt
And I call and call but am largely ignored and left with a friend who climbs on top of me
As I lay, belly down, willing the world to slow down
And I’m too numb to object, too unnerved to really care and I count the thrusts until it is over.
Later, they laugh at me in the hallway of my dorm and tell me what didn’t happen
And eventually I transfer and run away and I’m always in the same car driving from
Demons that have screwed the life out of me.
By: Sarah Niskanen