Pretty Girls Don't Bleed by Emily Allison - HTML preview

thorned -

once a month,

i feel my soul

spill​ out of me;

raw, ​ slick​,

pressure building

right in between

my eyes, my vision

spotting

red.

tears ​ leak

down my cheeks,

doing nothing to ease the

pain that ​ fingers

the inside of

me, vines of 

thorns​ growing

up into my ​ core​.

when i type on a

keyboard, i always dream that

i’m making my own music;

the black and white on the

page in front of me

matches the black and white

from the piano keys i

imagine i’m pressing.