It's working:
They stopped asking if I've eaten today.
They stopped looking into my eyes (hazel orbs tell truth).
They ceased to notice the sunken black bags forming (and the way I conceal them).
They no longer notice my clothing patterns to cover up the scars and bruises.
We are now strangers alike.
So a goodbye won't be so uncomfortable.
YOU ARE READING
Battle- Scars
RandomContinuation of random, tangential thoughts and poems. **MAY BE TRIGGERING**
