Prisoner Of The Past

Shattered, I lay on the floor.
Memories of that night flood my mind.
I scream, trying to chase them away.
Yet, no matter the screams, they never fade.

My frantic cries, my endless shaking.
Haunted by memories of the past.
I look at my arm, three scars stare back.
Fighting the urge to bleed my sadness.

I lay on the floor, frozen with fear.
The scenes replay in my head, over and over.
His hands holding me back, prisoner.
The pleasure on his face, ignoring my pleas.

Like a movie, the scenes replay in my eyes.
I try to push them away, yet they never fade.
Haunted by nightmares of the past,
I lay, frozen, unable to fight the urge anymore.

© Fighter

*i stopped cutting, yet the scars on my arm are a constant reminder of the past. "We forget the things we want to remember, but remember what we want to forget"