Hardened Leather

People are good to me

But I don’t think they are

People shower me with words

That are mostly good

But I listen to the ones that aren’t

I listen to the criticisms, the insults

The bullying

Because it hurts

I like the pain it inflicts

It tears at me

It pulls off and flicks my skin away

Into a dirty bucket

Leaving me raw and fresh

Ready for infection

Which I don’t allow

My skin grows back twice as strong

Like hardened leather

Ready to be torn, again and again

And again

Author: Jack Bennett

Born and raised in Torquay, England. 22 years old. Teeming with thoughts that need an outlet, working a full time job at his local supermarket. Unfortunately born a poet, he will most likely suffer from this contradiction most of his life.

2 thoughts on “Hardened Leather”

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