Categories > Original > Poetry4 Reviews
But battle on now.
Cuts turn to scabs,
Scabs turn to scars,
And you know you can never show anyone your arms.
Tracing scars with your finger,
You begin to shake,
You still hope this is a dream from which you can't wake.
You're quilted in them,
They swallow you,
But they can't even begin to explain the pain you've been through.
But, you don't want this,
Not now, not anymore,
So you throw you tool against the wall and it bounches to the floor.
Sometimes, you can't help it,
Sometimes it's all too much,
The weapon stands so gracefully and your skin it does touch.
But battle on now,
Battle on we shall,
And battle, battle, battle on and on, we shall.