Years of torture
Knifes thrown at my heart.
Some twisted deeper.
Others fallen out.
Each painful in their own twisted way.
Each left a scar.
The wound he left me with still hurts and opens from time to time.
But every time it rips it heals and fixes itself again.
Maybe
One day
Theyll fade into nothingness.
Another empty memory
Like the rest of my scars.
I also happened to write this one.
YOU ARE READING
Poems, Stories, Rants
PoetryJust a bunch of poems my friends and I wrote. There might be a few that cuss if your uncomfortable with that sorry. You dont have to read them.
