The crazy thing about having so many
is that you get used to them
you get used to the garish white lines
the brown jagged gashes
You grow accustomed to the stories they tell
The songs they sing
The memories they hold
The reminiscence they bring
The years go by and
Some begin to fade
The rest are there to stay
constantly reminding you of the price you paid
the price you paid to escape
The price you paid to feel
feel anything but the pain
anything other than what's real
The ones that stay
Remind you how expensive they are
How much they cost
and how they will always remain a scar
when they begin to fade
they take their stories with them when they go
their tales, their songs, their memory
Now you're scared when they no longer show
They're yours
A part of your self, your skin, who you are
they're to remind you never to go back
They're your memoir
So why are they leaving you
Leaving you bare
why won't they stay
Continue to sing, scream and shout 'I'm right here'
YOU ARE READING
Opening
PoetryI stare at the blank page I'm not sure what to write.... A small collection of poems exhibiting my inner most secrets; what's hiding in my soul. An opening... Author: They're not that good but it's just an opening into my innermost thoughts. It def...
