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Bandages
August 19, 2012
Wrapped around my body are bandages.
Bandages as white as snow and as rough as a snakes scales.
They hide the monster inside of me.
As long as I’m wrapped, I can only hear the rustling of bandages when I move.
If I stay wrapped, I’ll never be awake and alive.
Bandages bring only one advantage.
I can’t become comatose.
When seen, I become dead inside because of poor judgment.
That last night before I became wrapped in bandages, I was loved.
Will I ever find the strength to believe and destroy this cage of bandages?
© Rebecca B., Marietta, GA
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