We all have our scars. Some decorate our outer shell, reminders that we are not indestructible. We bleed and we hurt. The sooner we accept this notion without the fear of the unknown the sooner our lives can begin. But they are also to commemorate the ideal that we heal. What is broken can be fixed and what is torn can be stitched. Other scars are burned on our hearts, memories that we have loved and we have lost. These scars are our lessons. Our warning signs flashing red when danger in the form of a boy who will be incapable of loving you is approaching. And finally there are the scars covering our tongues. The gashes and cuts from the words never said, who desperately tried to claw themselves free from the cages of our mouths. They are guilt, our reminders that risks are better when taken and given the chance to become memories rather than scars.
YOU ARE READING
Far and Wide
Poetrypoetry from the depths of my mind on every matter of my tiny existence THESE ARE ALL MY ORIGINAL WORKS
