BAD.LAND

Beneath your clothes

On the soft part of your skin

There lies a bad land

No one should see.

You let me near you

Breathing softly,

But breathless and restless

Nonetheless, only yours.

It’s over your body

I take my hand

Brushing your skin

Healing your wounds.

Badlands have wild roses —

Thorns may prick fingers

I pay the price, anyway

For visiting you there.

J.F

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Check out JoannaFanuko.com for my original stories, one chapter at a time. PUNKTUATED.blog features my original poetry, mental health advocacy and deep thoughts. Thanks for following and reading.

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