It is not the open wounds that lay upon the surface that hurt the most,
But the invisible ones which dwell underneath where no else can see.
They are the wounds that keep you up at night or terrorize you in your sleep,
Reminding you of times that you'd wish could burn or the person you wished you hadn't met.
And no matter the amount of bandages or medicine applied such a wound cannot be healed,
Only time can truly mend the invisible scars that lay scattered across your heart.
YOU ARE READING
Raw Heart
PoésieThis is a book dedicated to poems that were created straight from the heart and mind. They are filled with my current emotions and thoughts at the time of writing and are unapologetically raw. I hope you enjoy. ^_^ Book cover credited to the amazing...
