He takes a breath,
and he is calm.
For once,
peace is his.
But only for a moment.
The bathroom door burst open,
followed by a swarm of boys,
all grasping hands
and screaming mouths.
“Homo.”
“Freak.”
“Fag.”
“Bitch.”
The hands leave bruises,
but the words
leave cuts,
deep and scarring.
Cuts that never leave,
until they are mirrored
by a razor,
and blown away
by a mother’s scream.
~Ash~
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Published by Ashton Rose
I ama freelance writer, editor, and blogger for hire. I use my skills and personal experience to craft content that is captivating, compelling, and engaging. I specialize in content about writing, mental health, and LGBTQ+ life and issues. When not writing, I can usually be found with a spade in one hand and a book in the other.
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