Rainy Eyes

My wounds are fresh
My mouth full of blood
I am tired, as if the air
Is poisoned

The river behind my house is
Full of my tears

I can’t say, Stop!
My eyes rain tears
In the middle of the night

I am not a doll
Not a toy
I am a woman
Respect me
I need to breathe you,

By Norwan


  1. I can imagine a woman saying “stop”… and I imagine the river behind her house runs clean with sweet, healing water…may this immediately be the case for the woman of your poem!

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