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My blood, my comfort
She always hated the sight of blood
But now it had become her greatest comfort
She felt her blood was the only one who understood
What it was like to be judged
Both hated on for their colour
Both wanting to be hidden
Both wanting to be invisible
Each cut sent waves of euphoria throughout her body
She wasn't a masochist
She just loved being in control
It was a distraction
From all the racists
Who consistently punished her
For her skin colour
She didn't know if she could deal with it anymore
She didn't want to be here no more
She had always wondered about life after death
What would happen?
Would she finally find peace?
Or would she forever carry the weight of her race for eternity?
All she wanted was to exist
Without being discriminated against
Without someone bullying her for her skin colour
She was tired
Whilst she was stuck in her mind
She hadn't realised
How deep she had cut
She saw how much blood she had lost
She wasn't sad
She was just numb
The last thing she thought of before she succumbed
Was freedom
Copyright ©
Layla Riley-Hill
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