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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1512862
Read;Comment;Do whater [Scars]
They are my memories

Of pain.

They rain on my skin

Like tears that drip

From my eyes.

The lies that escape

From your mouth are

Like knives stabing

Through my heart.

More scars create

And many remain.

The ones that do

Not fade, hurt

Me more than

The bruises that

I recieved from your hits.

You are gone with

The past.

Its time to move on.

I realized now that

The scars will continue

To remind me of

Those horrid memories

That I wish to forget

So much.
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