I let her wound see the fresh air

No tissues or napkins

I may have said something in there

If my intents differ from what you are interpreting

I’m bruised.


I let her wound see the fresh air

A call I negligently made

She turned her back and fled the downstair

To think I got numb and stared

I’m bruised.


I let her blood flow down

She suck up all emotions and spat all at rocks

The boundaries exist now

Now cowardliness escorts my soul, not one I like to talk

I’m bruised because she is

She is, because of me.
©OKOCHA OBED

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