Thoughts, Never Words. (Poetry Collection)

Skin.

When the sun,
Shuts it's eyes,
And the moon,
Begins to rise,

I roll down my sleeve,
I look at my skin,
And take in it's inperfections,
As a tear rolls down my chin,

I wipe my face,
I realise now,
What I have done,
I did this to myself, somehow.

I hurt people
'I'm sorry!', I scream,
I deserved this,
For being so mean.