The cuts on my hips are mirrored to the ones of my lips.
But both are not from me.
No.
I did not create both.
You on the other hand.
Did.
When my back is turned with no weopon in hand.
You strike.
Not only physical.
But mental too.
You attack the mind.
And not only in my slumber.
But in my days and every thought.
Your always there to haunt me.
Be it by the scars that grace my body or your emerald eyes in the back of my head.
There's always a reminder.
Of you.
In everything I do there's a constant reminder, that im not alone.
I look at myself,
and can see not only what you have done,
but what you will do.
My heart cannot take it and neither can my body.
So I beg, not ask
please...
Dont leave any more reminders.
But you do not listen.
For when my head lays on the pillow I am hit with your smell and the assault of you begins once again.
You are my constant reminder.
