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Limp-Wristed (re-written)
February 1, 2012
These tears race down my check
But I’ll smile and wipe them away
Bite my lip, clench my teeth
And hope the smile’ll stay.
Some blood will drip, I will laugh
I’ll just call myself a wimp
Won’t let those red drops get to me,
Won’t let my wrist go limp.
But that is just the underneath;
The wariness in my soul
You would never guess what’s beneath
The secrets I with-hold.
I easily hide everything
In my jail cell called ribs
While thoughts of ending are still pending
And hopelessness still lives.
© Rebecca S., Coventry, RI
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