Scars

A silvery shimmer of ghosts from the past

Swim

s u g g e s t i v e l y

in the air around my head;

Bringing back

temptations

of how it

used to be

Transparent tails

l i c k

my cheek softly

Seducing me with attitudes of who I used to be

Angry red eyes

b u r n

into my skin

Showing me that I haven’t changed all that much

Shiny self inflicted scars

Replaced so...

w i l l i n g l y

With deep black etchings

Each line

scratched

with a story

of untold

misery

Each black shape

drawn

with memories

of time

never

to be forgotten

Sincere moments of how it should be

Covering

linear

blood

shed

(over the uncontrollable)

Fists grip

and hold on tight

Not knowing what will happen next

So

out

of

reach

Yet

still so mouth wateringly

destructive

Nothing

could be more perfect

Than the

tantalising sounds

Emitted

from the one source welcomed

Nothing

more pleasing

Than the situation

As it stands

Simple

words

Simple

gestures

Simple

seconds

Laced

with toxic yesterdays

Nothing

more enticing

(Than knowing it is a phase)

Nothing

compares

(To how it should be)

L e v e l h e a d e d

and

drowning

A new sort of overwhelming urgency

Smothering

in a blanket

Hiding

the (necessary) from sight

Throwing

obstacles

in the path of success

Throwing

problems

in the (well executed) solutions

Pockets burning

and

bruises forming

(Heads melting without need)

Old

wounds

healing

and

new

scars

forming

Another memory

carved

into sensitive limbs

Another war story

to be told

to willing ears

Another art form

to be portrayed

in proud shame.