(4) Scarred
As I sit here alone numb, lost in thoughtI trace the lines carved in my skin
Etched from a former life of misery
These scars no one wants to see
No one wants to hear about
They don't exist to unseeing eyes
Heartache has become the familiar pain that keeps me lucid
My nonexistence will be the only future in my path
This Poems Story
Number four of seven. Old habits die hard for some. With alternative methods to deal with sorrow it doesn't mean there won't be constant reminders of something so familiar its comfortable.
Public Collections Containing This Poem
Other Poems By This Author
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Unbearable Loss
PoetTheresa Belanger
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Stones
PoetTheresa Belanger
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