Sierra DeMulder, from “On Admitting You Are an Abuse Survivor,” We Slept Here
(via lifeinpoetry)
Each night you will try so hard

to touch his face. Your fingers
will shake. You will be crying

and you will not know why

and it’s not his fault. It’s not his fault
he is an un-swung axe.
posted 5 years ago on 19th October
via agooduniverse     source lifeinpoetry
tags:   words poems q
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