The scars on my arms
They looked like ribbons
When they bled out,
I remember the ribbons
on presents when I was little,
They seem to disappear over the years,
Along with all the joy.
I remember the ribbons
All the little girls wore,
I was never one of them,
All I heard or saw was the yells,
That echoed through the house.
I remember all the bruises,
Looking like the purple ribbons she wore,
All across my skin, that they caused.
Ribbons are the evil in my life,
At least up till now.
The purple ribbon a girl gave,
To the one who cared,
It was a symbol of all the truths
That they shared.
Of all the trust and love,
That she can't show.
The one who cares,
She wears it everyday,
As a reminder of the one,
Who saves her everyday.