These scars on my wrists tell a story of my past
I can't remember always but wean I do I'm horrified at my past
As each day passes I find out more
the people I hurt
the ones I left behind
I'm free
But was it really worth it
The crash would have killed my dad
but now I'm here forever
free to run
free to be
now I can watch the seasons pass
I don't remember where home is or what it is but im here
These scars are my past
they are not me
Now I am free
By: The Dreamers
YOU ARE READING
Poetry from one of the past, present, and future
PoetryThis is a book of poetry I and my tulpas have wrought and desided that it would be cool to post it on the internet. Story's signed the dreamers are from my tulpas and ones labeled Rose. C are from me. All photos and Videos not taken by me will have...
