Scars
You've left me with cuts,
Broozes,
Wounds,
But the farther you've fallen,
The deeper the cut got.
The more I think of you,
The more pain that controls me,
Manipulates me,
Hates me.
The decisions,
Stupid as they are,
Were your fault,
You've cut me with your knife,
Then,
Left.
Not there to heal the wounds you've made,
Not with me to hold me,
To hold my hand in yours.
To hug me.
You fucking cut deep,
And left scars.
YOU ARE READING
My Poetic Preachings
Thơ caThis is a book of things I feel about real people, real emotions, whether I have felt those emotions, or still do is varying from chapter to chapter.
