Scabs

Picking at these circles

All itchy, bloody and raw

Wondering why

The fuck am I

Doing this shit again for

No Sharps Please

The
cut
on
my
wrist

Has
now
healed

As
I was
told
not
to
pick
it

The
delicate
skin

Is
now
sealed

So
I’ll
try
not
to
nick
it

Again

The Transaction

Give it to me hard

Give it to me rough

I honestly won’t mind

If you act a little tough

Squeeze me a little too tightly

Pinch me a little too hard

I just want to feel something

That doesn’t leave me scarred

Relief

As I
open
up my
scars

The
blood
flows
once
more

As I
begin
to see
stars

I fall,
sated,
to the
floor

Healing

Some
days

You are
so close
to me

Some
days

You
are so
far

Some
day

I’ll have
nothing to
remind me

Other than
this scar

Invisible Injuries

Death leaves
scars on the
hearts of
the living.

Unstitchable
wounds
destined to
irritate those
forced to
bear them,
forever.

Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑