Just how perfect are these scars
That wither and burn in my flesh
So old, so worn out
but wither and burn so fresh
Just how they come in
different shades
Different shades like blue,
Red, deep red, blood red,
Just every scarlet hue
Just how they're here from my birth
From when I hadn't even touched the earth
Know just when to prickle
Hooked me like that a sickle
Just how they break every wall I built
At night I wear despair for a quilt
At night when lives are dreaming
To the deaf my soul's screaming
YOU ARE READING
Way of my soul || Poetry
Poetry"My poetry's bad And I can't blame the news" . . . Rankings: #1 in Poet (27/11/2023) #3 in Distress (22/12/2023) #3 in sadpoems (25/12/2023) #2 in lovepoem (25/12/2023) #3 in poesia (27/12/2023 (16.7k ppl) #3 in feelings (14/01/2024) #1 poesia (18/0...
