My eyes are weary

but my brain is not.

I remember.

I remember too much

that I want to forget.

The shattered Fairytale.

Stranger in a familiar body,

Ice cold stares from eyes that were once so warm and tender.




They call it Bipolar,

I call it the Demon that stole the man I loved.

I run through it in my head

over and over,

but I want to forget

to erase it all and just sleep.

9 thoughts on “Scars

  1. suzette portes san jose

    the world keeps on turning and nothing could ever be fair… each has its nightmare in the depth of barrows…memories of pains and scars remain to be remembered… i can feel the words dear…

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