Just a cut.
Just a scratch.
“What’s that mark?”
“It was just the cat.”
Just an excuse.
Just another lie.
“What’s with all the bracelets?”
“Just fashion, why?”
Just a tear.
Just a scream.
“Why were you crying?”
“Just a bad dream.”
But it’s not just a cut…
Or a tear or a lie…
It’s always “just one more”
Until you Die
1 comment
That poem utterly describes my 15 year old self