I gaze upon them, and suddenly, the floodgates of the past burst wide.
Each scar a story, etched deeply, of moments where my soul had cried.
Memories rush in, a torrent strong, sweeping me back to times of pain.
To laughter that didn't last long, to trust that proved to be in vain.
These marks, invisible to most, scream volumes to my weary heart.
Of battles fought, of love's high cost, of pieces torn brutally apart.
And as the memories take their toll, my eyes begin to overflow.
Each teardrop, a part of my soul, falls silently, a sadness show.
They cannot see the inner storm, the tempest raging in my mind.
These tears, my only outward form of chaos that I've left behind.
Yet in each salty drop that falls, perhaps there's healing to be found.
For tears can soften memory's walls, and help to soothe what once was wound.
YOU ARE READING
Penny for a Poem
شِعرI just write what I see in others or feel, leave your thoughts. If you have any feelings you'd like me to write out lemme know
