When the scars are still there and so are the memories, we try our best to not reflect on those moments
like the ones who caused us pain was never in our life
like the scars that caused us the most memories aren't there
the scars not everyone can see isn't still singing in the back of your mind like the church choir when your hiding in the bathroom
or the scars that everyone can see, it makes you contemplate every life choice
knowing they can see every time you failed at self control
or every time you lost control at being a person when being a person was the last thing you cared about then
We stare at the ceiling desperately trying to fall asleep
Not counting sheep but counting the memories of the scars on your body where you cried out i can't do this anymore
and you even failed at that
YOU ARE READING
the brokenness
Poetrymy poetry from over the years tw: mention of self harm, eating disorder, and rape
