I trace the scars on my heart
top to bottom side to side I trace the sutures My fingers glide But scar tissue does not feel numb and present hidden and shield. He cracked my rib cage to cop a feel My heart pulsated, "Is this time real?" He revealed the truth and drew my blood I'm drained and pale This is not love I trace my heart my fingers red top to bottom I bled and bled side to side and yes I cried I traced the sutures am I alive?
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Archives
October 2016
Categories |