The scars he's left
On her soul
The scars she's left
On her wrists
The scars they scream
The be ripped open
The scars they've made
On the world
The scars are healing
The scars are fading
The scars are sensitive
The scars speak for her
The scars make her vulnerable
The scars make her scared
The scars speak for her
The scars cover up who she really is
The scars make her forget reality
The scars make her ache
"Don't cut me open again..."
She tries to say
But the scars cloud reality
The scars have consumed her
The scars are her...
YOU ARE READING
Believe
PoésieThis is the tale of emotions gone rogue. They stole a depressing '69 Mini Cooper Country Man. Denial is driving. Anger is smoking a cigarette in the passenger seat. Identity is nowhere to be found. The red flags are in the trunk. Okay, not seriously...
