scars

09

Loud shrieks.

Escaping.

Losing direction.

Finding a way out.

A way out of me.

How many cuts will it take this time?

The voices taunting me on the inside.

The voices that shriek when the blade gets put away.

The same voices that laugh when the damage is done.

Its not my voice.

Maybe I should've known.

That this is my fate.

This is why I'm still living each and every day.

Painfully.

But still living.

How many more years?

I wonder.

Months?

Weeks?

Days?

Or hours?

Will I ever see him again?

Its been a week.

Or maybe more.

What if he comes back one day?

What if he sees the new scars that have surfaced my skin,

After the old ones have faded.

What would he do?

Or say?

I'm sorry Caleb.