To my hidden scabs,
You are not yet healed but you will be one day. For now, you do not spill blood unless you start to itch forcing me to scratch until you spill those tears of pain. When you spill you bring back all the bad I've seen, all the bad I've done, all the memories that terrify me and worst of all you make me even more itchy. Opening new scabs spilling more blood, more fear, more and more of a hell I've been trying to heal. You itch too much; I try not to listen but your screams are painfully loud. But It's okay because I know one day i will be strong enough to resist your screams for a scratch so you can transform into something more than a scar that is bothering. finally, rested to no more itching no more in pain. No more tears of despair.
~A.B.
YOU ARE READING
shit i wrote when bored and alone
PoetryJust 'shit i wrote when bored and alone' I don't really express my feelings growing up in a family of stones You're never taught So when confusion hits I pick up a pen To figure myself out And find a way to speak This is mostly for me but if yo...
