Sticks and stones may break my bones,
But you leave scars that are never shown...
What we strive to understand
is too complex to grasp...
There's unhealed wounds surrounding my shattered...
Poison running through my blood which you helped...
Sitting in the playground
Rocking on the swing...
I am no angel
for I have broken many hearts...
If self harm is for attention,
then why the scars we conceal...
my lungs have grown poisonous since
the night you left and they ask me about you...
I know that now
I should pretend to search for...
I don't know who or what or when or where,
but the faces by the window blur and smear...
Its difficult laying in bed.
Remembering his hands around my body...
The young girl
reluctantly...
I'm lost; writing-
a puzzle left unsolved...