I like to make a game of it, sometimes.
I like to see how many constellations I might find hidden between the stars on my skin.
Did I say stars?
Whoops, meant scars.
Sometimes, they seem so congruent.
People try to minimize their scars.
Applying lotions and creams in an attempt to erase memories so important, that they've embedded into flesh.
Call me strange.
Call me crazy.
I quite like scars; stars, and all.
I yearn to learn the history of each- if it came with tears, or laughter. If it came from sadness or Idiocracy.
If my skin is a map; then the scars are the places I've pinned.
Memories singled down to a point I can feel- a point I can see.
No matter what,
I hope these stars always stay with me.
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The Untitled Project
Short StoryShort stories or poems written from the psychological deep dives into our own human emotions. All shorts are fictional in nature and any names mentioned are also fictional. Not based on true stories, but based on true human emotion. These stories ar...
