Poet 11586

Imprint

Angry red patches
They are littering my skin
Burns streak down my legs
"Was an accident"
"Sure," I say, "but it still hurt"
You don't say sorry
How long 'til this heals?
I cannot go out like this
I'm stuck inside, now
I look at myself
In the mirror, at my legs
I remember pain
It's hard to recall
But I will still resent you
Because it's your fault.