They confessed to me weeks ago
Why they never let their skin show
They told me that the scars were old
And today they were finally bold
I'm proud of them and that's not a lie
But I'm selfish because it made me cry
Those weeks ago the visions came
The ones of blood and ones of pain
They rarely come but infiltrate my sleep
Whispering the secrets that I keep
Today I actually saw their scars
But I saw them as if they were ours
YOU ARE READING
Quiver
Poetrya place where I've written my feelings when I felt them. it has become a story of depression and recovery, love and loss, hope and fear, and everything in-between. mostly poetry, sometimes stories. :)
